


Something To Live For

by DeiStarr



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Auror Harry, F/M, First Love, First Time, Gay Male Character, Gay Sex, HP: Epilogue Compliant, Harry Potter Next Generation, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Infidelity, Love, M/M, Male Slash, Mpreg, Oral Sex, Post - Deathly Hallows, Post-Hogwarts, Romance, Slash, Students
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-18
Updated: 2014-03-08
Packaged: 2017-12-29 17:49:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 31,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1008289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeiStarr/pseuds/DeiStarr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy became lovers after the war, but split up due to Draco's refusal to end his engagement to the pure-blood girl his parents had chosen to bear his heir. </p><p>Now, years later, their sons have thrown them together again. </p><p>Has either of them ever really moved on?</p><p>Told through both present day (2017-2020) and flashbacks to the past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Title:**  Something To Live For

**Disclaimer:**  You think I own Harry Potter? Girl, you seriously whack.

**Pairings:** Harry/Draco, Ron/Hermione

**Rating:** M, NC-17

**Warnings:**  Sex. Language. You know, later on.

**Summary:**  Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy became lovers after the war, but split up due to Draco's refusal to cancel his engagement to the pure-blood girl his parents had chosen for him. Fast forward years later, and their sons, Albus and Scorpius, have thrown them back together against their wills. Has either of them ever really moved on?

**A/N:**  This fic is dedicated to Brittany. *Muah* She requested an infidelity fic with a Halloween theme. 

* * *

 

 

_**Prologue** _

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

 

_Well you're the closest thing I have_  
 _To bring up in a conversation_  
 _About a love that didn't last_  
 _But I could never call you mine_  
 _Cause I could never call myself yours_  
 _And if we were really meant to be_  
 _Well then we just defied destiny_  
 _Its not that our love died_  
 _Just never really bloomed_

_Well I can't let go_  
 _No, I can't let go of you_  
 _Youre holding me back without even trying to._  
 _I can't let go_  
 _I can't move on from the past_  
 _Without lifting a finger you're holding me back._

_Landon Pigg -Can't Let Go_

* * *

_June 1_ _st_ _, 1998._

The young man with shaggy black hair and thick round glasses trudged up the lane, stopping as his destination came into view. He pursed his lips and surveyed it speculatively for a long moment.

He took a deep breath as he stood before the castle. The destruction was rampant, and his heart ached to see it. He nodded decisively. Coming back had been the right decision. Hogwarts needed to be rebuilt. And, much as he hated to admit it, his magic was incredibly strong.

After defeating Voldemort and ridding himself of the Horcrux, it was like his magic had become supercharged. He now was considered the most powerful wizard in Britain.

They could definitely use his help in the rebuilding.

He started forwards, heading toward the ruined mess he had once called home.

 


	2. Because You're Harry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the past, Harry and Draco become friends, and gradually more.
> 
> In the present, they see one another at Platform 9 and 3/4's.

**Chapter One:**  Because You're Harry

**Disclaimer:** I own this no more than I own LoTR, or Narnia, or any of the many, many other fictional worlds that I adore.

**Warnings:**  Language, frotting, handjobs

* * *

 

_There you are_  
 _Holding her hand_  
 _I am lost_  
 _Dying to understand_  
 _Didn't I_  
 _Cherish you right_  
 _Don't you know_  
 _You were my life_

  
_Even though I try_  
 _I can't let go_  
 _Something in your eyes_  
 _Captured my soul_  
 _And every night_  
 _I see you in my dreams_  
 _You're all I know_  
 _I can't let go_

_Mariah Carey - Can't Let Go_

* * *

_June 3_ _rd_ _, 1998_

The first time Harry saw Draco Malfoy was two days after his return to Hogwarts.

It was sheer coincidence.

On his first day back, Harry had received permission to visit Dumbledore's portrait anytime, as the former Headmaster had finally woken up. He was given the password to the Headmistress' office and told to go up whenever he wanted.

He spoke the password to the gargoyle, and headed up the curving staircase, halting at the top. Malfoy stood before Snape's sleeping portrait, head bowed, eyes closed as if in prayer.

Tears ran down his cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Professor," he said in a small voice. "I'm so sorry."

Harry was slightly surprised that he felt no animosity towards the boy in front of him. He stepped back, not wanting to intrude on what was obviously a very private moment. He must have made some sound, because Malfoy's head whipped up, and he turned.

Startled dove-grey eyes met bottle-green. They widened. They were red-rimmed.

Harry had never seen Malfoy look less put together.

"Potter." It was said without malice, and Malfoy's cheeks flamed as he realised he'd been caught crying by his former nemesis. He wiped at his eyes, looking away from Harry, cheeks still burning with shame.

"He was a good man," Harry said, softly. "The bravest man I ever knew."

Malfoy looked up then, and stared at Harry, as if to see if he was joking. He nodded slowly. "The best."

Harry gave him a sad smile. "Definitely one of them," he agreed.

"Why are you here?" Malfoy's voice held only genuine curiosity, which surprised Harry. He smiled crookedly.

"I came to see Dumbledore."

"Oh."

There a pause.

"Me too. But he's not here."

Harry smothered his surprise that Malfoy wanted to speak to the man he'd disarmed and held at wandpoint on the Astronomy Tower. He decided it was none of his business.

They stood in an awkward silence for a moment.

"Harry, my boy!" came Dumbledore's voice as he stepped into his portrait. He beamed at Harry. "I'm very glad to see you."

Harry saw the way Malfoy looked at Dumbledore – or rather, didn't look at him – and paused. "I need to come back later, Professor," he said. "There's someone else who needs to speak with you, first."

Malfoy looked at him in surprise.

Dumbledore smiled.

"Draco," he said kindly. "I'd like to talk to you, too."

Malfoy looked almost panicked, but nodded his head. He was shaking.

Harry turned and made his way back down the stairs.

* * *

_June 4_ _th_ _, 1998_

The second time Harry saw Malfoy was in front of the Room of Requirement.

Morbid curiosity drove him to check and see if the room was still there, still working. He headed off to the seventh floor on his break.

He stopped when he saw the figure sitting on the floor in front of the wall.

Malfoy sat there, legs crossed and head bowed.

Harry stepped forward cautiously. Malfoy didn't seem to hear him.

Harry sat beside him. He noticed tears were streaming down Malfoy's face. He cried silently, eyes closed, face open and unguarded. He looked impossibly young and lost.

Harry's heart went out to him. Even though it was Malfoy, even though they had hated one another for so much of their youth, he felt nothing but deep pity for the boy in front of him. He laid a hand on Malfoy's shoulder, and Malfoy didn't shrug it off.

He simply looked up at Harry, blinked, and stared at him, as if searching his face for something. He tried to smile but his face twisted in sorrow, and he quickly turned away again, bowing his head once more.

They sat together in silence for a long time.

Neither said a word when they parted.

* * *

_June 5_ _th_ _, 1998_

The third time Harry saw Draco Malfoy was in the Forbidden Forest.

He was heading out there for a walk, to clear his head. His magic was more than enough to handle any danger that might be lurking.

He spotted a shock of white-blond hair and stopped, frowning. Why was Malfoy turning up everywhere he went?

Of course, it wasn't like Malfoy was particularly bad anymore. In fact, he was quite polite to Harry in their interactions. But it struck him as odd that the Slytherin seemed to be everywhere he wanted to go.

Deciding to make the best of it, he figured they might as well walk together. Safety in numbers; and while Harry was confident that he'd be fine on his own, he wasn't entirely sure about Malfoy.

"Malfoy!" he called. "Wait up!"

Malfoy froze. Harry jogged over. He decided to be friendly.

"Potter." Malfoy frowned. "Why have you been following me?"

Harry chuckled. "I was just asking myself why you seem to be everywhere I go. Pure coincidence, Malfoy." He winked. "You know what they say about great minds."

Malfoy's brow furrowed, as if he was trying to work out whether he'd been complimented or insulted. "No, Potter, I don't."

"Oh." Harry felt slightly awkward. "I guess it's a muggle saying – 'Great minds think alike.'"

He decided to keep the additional, "And small ones seldom differ" to himself.

"Oh. Well in that case, thank you." Malfoy smiled – actually smiled – and Harry was dumbstruck. He'd never seen Malfoy smile before. Smirk – all the time. But never a genuine smile. The other boy was beautiful.

Harry swallowed and tore his eyes away. He felt so odd, looking at Malfoy and thinking him beautiful. It reminded him about how he used to feel about Ginny, and that was just… strange. Malfoy was a boy. Besides that, he was… well,  _Malfoy_.

Harry cleared his throat. "So, what are you doing all the way out here in the forest?"

Malfoy laughed, a nervous sound that echoed in the stillness around them. "Haven't you worked it out yet? I'm facing my fears, Potter. Next is the Astronomy Tower." He looked down quickly, a flash of misery coming over his face. He shifted uncomfortably, scuffing his feet on the dirt. It was clear he regretted mentioning that.

"I've always been afraid of this place, since first year when we had detention out here. I figured I needed to grow up and get over it." He laughed again, without humour. "What better time to do it than my birthday?"

"Today's your birthday?" Harry couldn't keep the surprise out of his voice. "I didn't know." He paused. "Happy birthday, Malfoy."

Malfoy looked at him sharply. "You didn't know?"

"Well… no. We weren't exactly friends in school, you know," Harry pointed out.

"But I know yours." Malfoy looked somewhat sulky, as if Harry's ignorance of his birthday was an insult.

"Well," Harry paused. "I know a lot of other things about you. I know you take your tea with lots of milk and sugar – half tea, half milk, and five teaspoons of sugar, to be exact. I know your left eyebrow raises slightly when you're nervous, and you chew your bottom lip if you think nobody's looking. You bite your nails in private but you give yourself a manicure every day to cover it up. Your favourite colour is green."

Harry took a breath after his long speech. Malfoy stared at him in astonishment.

"Bloody hell, Potter. Have you been stalking me?" Malfoy smirked, quirking a brow at him.

"Sixth year, Malfoy," he said with a grin. The grin faded when Malfoy winced and his face fell.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to bring that up." Malfoy nodded, and they stood in awkward silence.

"So what brings the Saviour out here?" Malfoy smirked at him, but his tone was light and teasing.

Harry rolled his eyes. "I just fancied a walk, is all. Wanted to be alone."

"Oh." There was a pause. "Do you want me to go?" Malfoy looked hesitant, unsure.

"If I didn't want you around, would I have called out to you?" Harry asked.

Malfoy smiled again, and Harry's heart fluttered. He told it to be still and flushed.

"Why are you being nice to me?" he asked.

Malfoy looked surprised. "You saved my life, Potter. Twice. And you saved all of us from the Dark Lord. I'd be an idiot to keep tormenting you because of an old resentment. I've had much bigger things to worry about for a long time, now." He looked down. "Besides, I hoped that maybe, if I wasn't such a prat, you'd be willing to be my friend, this time."

He looked up nervously, and held out his hand. It shook slightly. Harry realised how much the gesture must have cost him, and it warmed him in a way he couldn't explain.

He reached out and clasped Malfoy's hand. He smiled warmly. "I'd be happy to be your friend – Draco."

Malfoy's smile rivaled the sun in its brilliance.

Harry realised as his heart sped and his stomach flipped over that he might be in trouble.

* * *

_September 1_ _st_ _, 2017_

Harry stood on Platform 9 and ¾'s with his wife and children. His heart simultaneously warmed to see them so excited, and ached to see James and Al off. Now two of his children would be leaving. All too soon, he thought, it would be Lily's turn.

Then it would be just him and Ginny, eight months out of the year. He supposed he should feel more excited about that, but instead there was merely dread at the thought. They had never lived together without a baby, or at least a pregnancy.

What on earth would they do with themselves?

He shook his head to clear it, and focused on now. Al was leaving.

"It's not fair!" Lily wailed. "I wanna go to Hogwarts, too!"

"It won't be long, and you'll be going too," Harry told her.

"Two years," sniffed Lily. "I want to go now!"

Harry shifted. The passers-by were giving them all some rather odd looks. Harry supposed it must be strange to see two boys pushing trolleys loaded up with trunks and owls in cages. He suppressed a grin, thinking of how Uncle Vernon would have reacted to it had he been there.

He started to respond to his daughter, but Al's voice interrupted him.

"I won't! I won't be a Slytherin!"

"James, give it a rest!" said Ginny.

"I only said he might be," said James, smirking. "There's nothing wrong with that. He might be in Slytherin."

Ginny glared and James quailed. Her glare could melt ice. And when she used it, it was best to just shut up and do whatever she wanted. Harry knew this from experience. James was on his own.

The boy in question smoothed his fine, sandy hair back from his pale forehead. He contained his excitement well, but Harry could see he was itching to push his cart through the barrier and get  _on_  with it already.

"Go ahead," Harry nodded to him. James grinned and sped through the barrier.

James out of the way, Al pounced on his parents. "You'll write to me, won't you?"

"Every day, if you want us to," said Ginny.

"Not every day," said Albus quickly. "James says most people only get letters from home about once a month."

"We wrote to James three times a week last year," said Ginny.

"And you don't want to believe everything he tells you about Hogwarts," Harry put in. "He likes a laugh, your brother."

Together they hurried the cart through the barrier, and stepped into a whoosh of steam from the Hogwarts Express. Al coughed.

The steam was thick around them. It was hard to see who anyone was.

"Where are they?" asked Albus, straining his neck to catch sight of his cousins.

"We'll find them," said Ginny reassuringly.

They walked through the mist, vapour from the train settling everywhere and making visibility difficult. Harry heard Percy droning on and thanked Merlin for the mist that saved him from a boring discourse on broomstick regulations.

"I think that's them, Al," said Ginny suddenly.

She gestured to four people coming out of the fog. Sure enough, it was them.

"Hi!" Al waved madly, and Rose grinned cheekily at him.

"Miss us?" she teased.

He stuck his tongue out. "Never!"

"Parked all right, then?" Ron asked Harry. He was practically bouncing in excitement. "I did. Hermione didn't believe I could pass a Muggle driving test, did you? She thought I'd have to Confound the examiner."

"No, I didn't," said Hermione. "I had complete faith in you."

"As a matter of fact, I did Confund him," Ron whispered to Harry, as together they lifted Albus's trunk and owl onto the train. "I only forgot to look in the wing mirror, and let's face it; I can use a Supersensory Charm for that."

Harry chuckled and agreed to keep his friend's secret. They headed back to the platform. Ron folded his arms across his chest and fixed the two new Hogwarts students with a glare.

"If you're not in Gryffindor, we'll disinherit you," he said. "But no pressure."

"Ron!" Hermione rolled her eyes while Lily and Hugo burst into giggles. Rose's eyes grew impossibly wide and Al looked scared.

"He doesn't mean it," their mothers tried to reassure them.

"Honestly, Ronald," sighed Hermione. Ron ignored her, he nudged Harry.

"Look who it is."

Harry looked. His breath hitched.

Standing about fifty metres away stood Draco Malfoy. He was older – Harry hadn't seen him once in fifteen years, by intentional avoidance – and his hairline was receding slightly. Not enough to look unattractive; just enough to emphasize the years that had passed. He was still pointy, but nevertheless was as gorgeous as ever.

His wife stood beside him, fussing over a boy who looked like a miniature of his father. Just like Al was like a miniature of Harry. Harry desperately fought to maintain his composure. To look as if he felt nothing.

Because after all, there was nothing there.

Nothing left to feel.

Draco looked up and caught the group that was staring at him. He gave them a short, dismissive nod, and turned away. Harry tried to ignore the pain that flared in his heart.

He had no reason to expect any more than that from Draco. Not anymore.

Beside him, Ginny stiffened. Harry could feel her eyes on him; her gaze peircing him as if she could sense his traitorous emotions. For all he knew, she probably could.

"So that's little Scorpius," Ron muttered. "Make sure you beat him in every test, Rosie. Thank God you inherited your mother's brains."

"Ron, for heaven's sake," said Hermione, half stern, half amused. "Don't try to turn them against each other before they've even started school!"

"You're right, sorry," said Ron. He was unable to help himself, however, and added, "Don't get too friendly with him, though, Rosie. Granddad Weasley would never forgive you if you married a pureblood."

"The sad part is, that might actually be true!" Ginny whispered to Harry, and he laughed, thinking of his muggle-loving father-in-law. Some of the pain in his heart eased.

"Hey!" It was James, practically bouncing with excitement.

"Teddy's back there," he squealed (though he would deny that later). He gestured erratically into the steam. "Just seen him! And guess what he's doing? Snogging Victoire!"

He stood back expectantly, but when no reaction was forthcoming, he scowled.

"Our Teddy! Teddy Lupin! Snogging our Victoire! Our cousin! And I asked Teddy what he was doing."

"It wasn't obvious?" muttered Ron. "He must not have been doing it right."

"You interrupted them?" said Ginny. "You are so like Ron."

"Hey!" the redhead in question protested.

"-and he said he'd come to see her off! And then he told me to go away. He's snogging her!" James was very clear on that point, as if expecting the adults to suddenly grasp the enormity of what he was saying.

"Oh, it would be lovely if they got married!" cried Lily. "Teddy would really be part of the family then!"

"He already comes round for dinner about four times a week," said Harry. "Why don't we just invite him to live with us and have done with it?"

"Yeah!" shouted James. "I don't mind sharing with Al - Teddy could have my room!"

"No," said Harry firmly. "You and Al will share a room only when I want the house demolished."

He glanced at the pocket-watch Mrs. Weasley had given him so long ago. "It's nearly eleven, you'd better get on board."

"Don't forget to give Neville our love!" Ginny reminded James, hugging him.

"Mum! I can't give a professor love!" he protested, horror stricken.

"But you know Neville!"

James gave her an exaggerated eye roll. "Outside, yeah, but at school he's Professor Longbottom, isn't he? I can't walk into Herbology and give him love..."

He shook his head. With a sudden smirk, he aimed a kick at Al, who squeaked and dodged. "See you later, Al. Watch out for the thestrals."

"I thought they were invisible? You said they were invisible!" Alpaled.

"Thestrals are nothing to worry about," Harry told Albus. "They're gentle things, there's nothing scare about them. Anyway, you won't be going up to school in the carriages, you'll be going in the boats."

Ginny hugged Al tight and kissed him goodbye. "See you at Christmas," she whispered, tearing up a little.

"Bye, Al." Harry gave him a tight hug. "Don't forget Hagrid's invited you to tea next Friday. Don't mess with Peeves. Don't duel anyone till you're learned how. And don't let James wind you up."

"What if I'm in Slytherin?" Al's quiet whisper into his father's ear made Harry's heart ache.

_Not Slytherin, not Slytherin!_

A sudden memory assailed him, of another little boy with messy black hair, bright green eyes, and glasses, sitting at his sorting, pleading with the Hat.

"Albus Severus," Harry said quietly. Ginny might be able to hear him, but she continued to wave at the train as though she couldn't. "You were named for two headmasters of Hogwarts. One of them was a Slytherin and he was probably the bravest man I ever knew." The words echoed something he had said once before, many years ago, to another Slytherin. One who had meant far, far more to him than Severus Snape ever could have. But he didn't say anything about that.

"But just say-" Al began.

"Then Slytherin House will have gained an excellent student, won't it? It doesn't matter to us, Al. But if it matter to you, you'll be able to choose Gryffindor over Slytherin. The Sorting Hat takes your choice into account."

"Really?"

"It did for me," said Harry. Al's eyes widened in astonishment. Harry had only ever told one person that before, and Al was the first in his family to know. Pulling Al close again, he whispered. "Slytherin's not so bad, you know. Perhaps it just needs more people like you in it to improve its image."

Al's face took on a pensive expression, and Harry hoped he'd gotten through.

The steam lifted, and all eyes turned to Harry.

"Why are they all staring?" demanded Albus. He and Rose looked nervously at all the students gawking at them.

"Don't let it worry you," said Ron. "It's me, I'm extremely famous."

The children burst out laughing as Ron puffed out his chest and preened.

Al practically glowed with excitement as he boarded the train. He and Rose called out their goodbyes and waved as they disappeared from sight. Harry had to swallow around a lump in his throat, even as he plastered on a smile and waved farewell.

"He'll be alright," murmured Ginny, touching him arm.

Harry nodded, turning to flash her a grateful smile.

"I know he will."

As he dropped his arm he touched the scar on his forehead. It had not pained Harry for nineteen years. All was well.

He closed his eyes and reminded himself.  _All is well._

However, that didn't stop his eyes from searching out Draco Malfoy as he, Ginny, and Lily made their way back to the car.

They lingered on the white-blond hair, on the retreating back of his one-time enemy. Then they closed in silent resignation as he moved to follow his family home.

_"You don't- Merlin, Potter, you don't even know. You have no idea what you are. Or just how special you are. And I don't mean Boy-Who-Lived-special; I mean special like any one person on the planet could be special. Not because you're the Boy Who Lived. Because you're Harry."_

The words echoed through his mind.

He shook his head to clear it from the ghosts of his past.

* * *

_July 31_ _st_ _, 1998_

Harry sighed as he walked away from the Quidditch pitch, towards the stands. Merlin, he  _missed_  that game. A voice called out to him, and he looked up, quickening his pace.

"Happy Birthday, Harry!"

"Draco." Harry smiled, waving greet his friend with genuine warmth as he pulled up to the stands where the blond was lounging. That was what they were now – friends. Good friends. Great friends. But Harry couldn't help wishing they were more.

Draco clapped him on the back, and smiled at him, and Harry's heart sang. He loved that smile.

"So, birthday boy, who's the favourite to win this season?"

Harry hesitated. "Well, the Canons have a new Keeper," he began, but Draco snorted and rolled his eyes.

"Right."

Harry bristled. "They're my favourite team!"

"Harry," Draco drapped an arm over his shoulders and his groin stirred at the contact. "I know for a fact that you only support them because Weasley does." It had taken several rows and sulky silences for Draco to give up calling Ron "Weasel" – though he still slipped from time to time.

Harry thought about lying, then shrugged. Draco knew him too well; there was no point. "Fine," he admitted, a trifle sulkily. "But they  _do_  have a new Keeper, and their chances are pretty good now."

Draco chuckled. "Harry, the day the Canons win the Cup is the day I beat you to the snitch. It could happen, but it's not bloody likely."

Harry's eyes widened in surprise. He'd never expected to hear the blond make such an admission. He stared at Draco.

"What? I can state facts, can't I?"

"I just…" Harry's voice trailed off. He frowned. "Don't sell yourself short, Draco. You're good."

"Of course I am," the blond said loftily. "I can beat anyone – except you." He shook his head. "I may be good, but you're better. You beat me to the snitch every time, and you'll beat me again this year."

Harry flushed under the praise. Then he sighed. "If McGonagall even lets us play this year," he said gloomily.

Draco grinned at him, cheeky and carefree. Harry's heart skipped a beat.

"You honestly think your head of house will give up the youngest seeker in a century and the opportunity to keep the Quidditch Cup for another year?"

"She's not my head of house, anymore, Draco; she's the headmistress!" Harry protested.

Draco waved him away. "But she's still a Gryffindor, Harry; still a Gryffindor. And much as she'd like to be neutral, she won't be able to resist the temptation." He smirked. "Besides, if she doesn't let you play, your whole house will probably storm her office in protest."

Harry laughed. Draco laughed with him.

"I can see them now!" He grabbed Harry's shoulders and made a broad, sweeping gesture with his free arm. "March of the Gryffindors!" he declared in his usual dramatic style.

Harry burst into another fit of giggles. He swatted Draco's arm playfully. "Oh, shut it, you prat."

Draco just smirked in response.

Harry blushed. Once, he would have hexed anyone who suggested that Draco Malfoy's smirk could make him blush. Now, there wasn't much about the git that  _didn't_  make him struggle to control the bloodflow to his face. Among other areas of his anatomy.

"What?"

"What what?" Harry grinned.

"You blushed again. Why?" Draco's tone was light and teasing.

"No reason." Harry blushed yet again.

"No, Potter; you forget – I know you. There's a reason." Draco's eyes gleamed. "And you're going to tell me."

"Sorry, no."

Draco gave him a sly look. "Having naughty thoughts, were you, Harry?"

"No!" Harry's cheeks flamed.

Draco's smirk grew even cockier, if that were even possible.

"I think you were. What about?"

"I  _said_ , that's not it! Leave it alone, you big git!"

"Wanker." Draco chuckled. "Tell me, Potter, or I'll make you talk."

"You can't make me, Malfoy." Harry folded his arms across his chest.

Draco smirked again. "Oh, I think I can."

With that he grabbed Harry and began tickling him.

Harry let out an unmanly shriek and began laughing helplessly as Draco's fingers dug into his sides.

"Stop! Malfoy! Stop! Draco!" he howled.

"Never!" Draco grinned.

"Alright, I'll talk! I'll talk! Merlin, I give!" he wheezed. Draco released him, and he gasped in lungfuls of air, holding his sides.

"Merlin, Malfoy; you trying to kill me?"

"Of course not, Potter. Without you, who would I torment? Who would be left for me to compare my vast intellect and astounding good looks to so I can be reminded of my obvious superiority? I suppose I could always use the Weasel; but really, that's little better than comparing myself to an ape."

"Malfoy!" Harry glared.

"Sorry, sorry," Draco raised his hands in supplication. The gleam in his eyes, however, suggested he was anything but. "Now, are you going to talk, or do I have to tickle you again?" Draco expertly steered the conversation away from a subject he knew would get him into trouble.

Harry thought fast.

"I was just thinking of the rush."

"The rush?"

"Playing Quidditch. The rush it gives me." Harry sighed. "I really do hope we get to play this year. I missed out fifth because of Umbridge, and sixth because of… well. I missed out on sixth."

"Why didn't you play Quidditch sixth year, Potter?" Draco looked at him with undisguised curiosity. The subject of potential dirty thoughts was temporarily forgotten, or perhaps Draco believed him.

Harry snorted. "Too busy stalking you."

Draco threw back his head and laughed.

Harry grinned.

"Besides," he added. "I didn't want to play if you weren't."

"Really?" Draco looked stunned.

"Really," Harry smiled. "You're the only real competition I've ever had."

Draco preened. Harry smiled happily at the sight.

He really did hope he would have the opportunity to play again. He honestly regretted not playing in his sixth year. He  _had_  been busy stalking Draco – for all the good it did, in the end – and he really hadn'[t wanted to play without the prospect of facing the Slytherin on the pitch. He wished they'd had the opportunity to face off for the snitch one last time. After all, as he'd said – he'd been banned in his fifth year, and resigned in his sixth. He'd missed out on his seventh year altogether.

While the headmistress had agreed to let last year's seventh years come back to redo the year so that they'd have a chance at passing their NEWTs, there was no word yet on whether they'd be allowed to rejoin their Quidditch teams or not.

He wished again that he'd played in his sixth year. Giving up Quidditch had led to the Sectumsempra incident – which he had repeatedly apologised to Draco for, even though Draco waved him off and reminded him of his own attempt at Crucio – and to his getting together with Ginny. Which had been a mistake. A huge one.

Harry still didn't know how to tell his best mate's little sister that he saw her as more of a sister than a lover. For that matter, he had no idea how he would tell that to his best mate. Or to Mrs. Weasley; his surrogate mother – who was already planning the wedding.

He sighed.

Draco eyed him speculatively. "Spill," he demanded.

Harry just shook his head, mutely.

Draco planted his hands on his hips, feet apart. "Spill, Potter." His eyes narrowed.

"It's nothing."

"You went all maudlin on me. You forget; I  _know_  you. So spill."

Harry groaned and raked his fingers through his already messy hair.

"Ginny."

Draco stiffened. "The Weaselette."

Harry glared at him. "Don't call her that!"

Draco's shoulders slumped. He sighed. "Sorry… habit."

"Break it." Harry's voice was harsh.

"I'll try." Draco paused. "So what about the– Ginny." He grimaced when he said her name, as if it tasted bad in his mouth.

Harry overlooked that. At least he'd used her name.

"I don't know what to say to her. She's expecting us to get back together now that the war's done and I…" He fell silent.

"You don't want to."

"No."

"Why not?"

Harry barked out a laugh. "She's like my sister. I don't know why I ever wanted to be with her in the first place; except maybe that I wanted to be part of the Weasley family so badly. And anyone else would only want me because I'm the Boy Who Lived," he added bitterly. "I thought maybe she could love me for me, because she knew me."

Draco studied his face. "You really think the only reason anyone would want you is that Boy Who Lived nonsense?"

Harry snorted. "I don't think – I know."

Draco shook his head and laid a hand on Harry's arm. "You don't- Merlin, Potter, you don't even know." He shook his head again. "You have no idea what you are. Or just how special you are. And I don't mean Boy-Who-Lived-special," he put in quickly as Harry began rolling his eyes. "I mean special like any one person on the planet could be special. Not because you're the Boy Who Lived. Because you're Harry."

His grey eyes were so intense, they looked silver. Harry stared, lost in the intensity of his gaze.

Draco's tongue darted out, wetting his lips, and Harry nearly let out an involuntary moan.

Nearly.

He stopped himself just in time.

Draco moved closer. There was barely a hair's breadth between their bodies, and Harry's breath hitched.

"What do you want, Potter?" Draco's voice was low and dangerous; seductive. The sound went straight to Harry's groin.

"Oh, sod it all," he said, and closed the distance between them, crushing his lips to Draco's. Draco stiffened. Harry started to pull away, realising too late that he'd just made a colossal mistake. But Draco seized his arms and muttered, "Oh, thank Merlin!" and kissed him back.

Harry moaned and melted into the blond's arms. Kissing Draco was nothing like kissing Ginny, or Cho. His lips were soft and pliant, but they were firm, and unyielding at the same time. He kissed with authority. He kissed with passion.

He kissed Harry like he owned him.

And Harry loved it.

Draco's tongue sought entrance to his mouth and he gave it eagerly, his own tongue meeting the blond's in a dance of passion; a quest for control. They fought for dominance.

It was fire and ice and everything Harry had ever dreamed of. He'd never been kissed like that; never.

Draco groaned into his mouth and he realised the Slytherin was just as affected as he was.

He twined his arms around Draco's neck, pulling the taller boy down; pulling him in, deeper, further. Draco wrapped his arms around Harry's waist and closed the space between their bodies until there was none.

Harry was hard and aching and he felt an answering hardness against his hip. He ground against it and Draco let out a gasp.

"Oh, Merlin;  _fuck_ , Harry!" he moaned, and ground back. Harry's throbbing erection was caught between them and he let out a moan of his own, long and low.

Draco ground harder; faster.

They moved together; tongues dancing, hips seeking purchase against one another.

Draco pulled back a little, and Harry whimpered. Then Draco's hands were fumbling at Harry's fly; pulling at the zip of his muggle jeans, and in a moment Draco had them open and plunged his hand inside; grasping Harry's length, stroking it.

Harry let out a cry at the sensation of Draco's hand on his cock.

"Oh, Godric; Draco!"

Shaking, he moved his hands towards Draco's trousers. It took him several tries to get them open; his hands were shaking so badly. All the while, Draco's hand was on him, moving him towards completion.

At last he managed them, reaching inside and grasping Draco's own cock. It was silky soft and leaking precome.

He began stroking it in time with Draco's movements on himself.

"Oh, Harry," moaned Draco. " _Harry_." His breath was ragged.

Together they moved, together they brought one another to the edge.

Pleasure coiled and undulated like a snake writhing low in Harry's gut, and he cried out to it; slipping into parseltongue without even noticing.

Draco hissed and his movements grew erratic, frantic.

Pleasure rose in them, cresting like a wave; growing ever larger as it headed for the shore of bliss.

Harry cried out when he came, and Draco followed him a moment later; biting his lip, closing his eyes, and tossing his head back as he groaned aloud.

Then it was over.

They leaned against one another, panting.

They were both trembling in the afterglow.

"Merlin, Draco," murmured Harry. The first sexual experience of his life; and it was with a boy. With  _Draco Malfoy_ , of all people. And it had been brilliant. He'd loved it.

Draco kissed his neck, and Harry sighed contentedly.

They stood there, holding one another, for several long minutes.

Neither wanted to speak or move; to break the spell.

"Well," Draco drawled. "I guess that answers the question of whether or not you're interested."

Harry snorted his laughter into Draco's shoulder. Draco lay his head against Harry's, and Harry hummed happily. The gesture felt oddly intimate.

"Clean us up?" Draco asked.

Harry waved his hand, muttering a wandless cleaning charm. He yawned. Draco chuckled.

He turned Harry's face towards himself, and planted a soft, chaste kiss on his lips. Harry smiled.

Draco's eyes glowed, and his face relaxed into the happiest smile Harry had seen on it yet.

"Are we…"

"Dating, Potter? After that I should hope so." Draco smirked. "I'll have you know I'm not that kind of girl."

Harry laughed and kissed him again.

His heart felt so full, so light; even flying couldn't compare.

* * *

_September 1_ _st_ _, 2017_

Draco Malfoy returned to the Manor alone.

He walked swiftly to his rooms.

He needed to be alone.

He took a route he knew would let him avoid his parents.

He didn't have time or energy to play their games.

Not now.

Once he reached the sanctuary of his chambers, he closed his eyes and rubbed circles into his temples.

He had seen Harry today.

At the train station.

With the Weaselette.

Harry had stared at him without feeling.

Without a touch of regret, or longing, or – or anything.

It was harder than it should have been.

He was there seeing his sons off to Hogwarts – one of whom had looked like a mini-Potter; a carbon copy of the boy who had refused his hand and wounded his pride so many years ago.

Draco sighed deeply, leaning his head against the wall.

There was no doubt, much as he denied it to himself, why every man he'd taken to bed in the last fourteen years had black hair or green eyes or both.

Who they'd reminded him of.

No denying why he'd never stayed with any of them beyond a night.

None of them had been Harry.

None of them had been the man he'd loved.

The man he still loved.

The man fate or Merlin had seen fit to bring back into his life again; happily married, with three children.

The man who had wasted no time in moving on.

Baby James had been born a little less than nine months from the day he and Potter last spoke.

There had been no time for him to change his mind.

No time to apologise.

No time to win Harry back.

No second chance.

No choice but to go through with his own wedding, to produce the heir his parents wanted so badly.

To enter into the marriage that was now over; that had never been anything more than a sham, anyway.

"Fuck!" he cursed and punched the wall with his fist, hard.

Pain lanced through his heart, overshadowing the pain shooting through his fist. It was made worse by the fact that he had only himself to blame.

 


	3. Slytherins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Slytherins are Slytherins, and letters are sent home.

**Chapter Two** : Slytherins

**Disclaimer:**  Me no ownie.

**Warnings** : Blowjob, frottage. Language.

**A/N:**  Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Next time I'm on a computer (which won't be till after I'm no longer sick as a dog), I'll try to reply to everyone! :)

* * *

_I really wanna be with you (be with you)_

_But I gotta be real with you (real with you)_

_I can't leave you alone (no)_

_And I know I'm living wrong._

_But I can't let you go_

_Can't Let You Go - Fabolous_

* * *

_August 31st, 1998_

"Harry."

A pair of arms slid around his waist, and he relaxed into them. Draco dropped his chin onto Harry's shoulder, and Harry nuzzled the blond's cheek with his forehead.

"Hey," he said softly.

"Hey yourself." Draco held him for a few minutes, and he leaned back, enjoying the contact. "So you know how all the eighth years are being put together in the North Tower, two to a room?"

"Mmhmm?"

"Well, I spoke to McGonagall today. Talked about how you and I were friends now, and inter-house unity, and all that. And she decided to put us in a room together." Draco's tone was smug. Harry burst out laughing.

"That's so sneaky!"

Draco smirked. "Slytherin, remember?"

" _My_  Slytherin," Harry purred.

Draco chuckled. They stood in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

"Have you told anyone about us?"

Harry blinked. He hadn't; he hadn't been sure how to go about it, and figured the conversation would be best held in person, but now he wondered if Draco would be angry.

"No," he admitted. "I was going to do that after they got here, tomorrow."

"Don't."

Harry straightened and turned. He shot Draco a puzzled look. "Why not?"

Draco chewed his bottom lip. "My parents don't know that I'm gay," he said finally. "I'm not ready to tell them yet. If it gets out-"

"Ron and Hermione won't say anything," said Harry firmly.

"Harry, please." Draco looked at him beseechingly, and Harry saw real fear in his boyfriend's eyes.

"Alright," he sighed. "I won't say anything until you're ready."

Draco smiled, clearly relieved. "Thanks, Harry." He dropped a kiss on Harry's lips.

Harry smiled, and wrapped his arms around the Slytherin. Draco hugged him back and he hummed contentedly.

* * *

_September 1_ _st_ _, 1998_

"Harry!"

Harry found himself with a mouthful of bushy hair as Hermione launched herself into his arms. He chuckled and hugged her back. He'd waited outside the castle for an hour for his friends to arrive, and while the other students around them were streaming into the castle, heading for the feast, he and his friends stopped to catch up.

"Geeze, mate; I'm jealous. She never hugs  _me_  like that," teased Ron, eyes twinkling. Hermione shot him a baleful look.

"Well I haven't had to go months without seeing you, Ronald, or you would get hugs like that." She sniffed. "Besides, Harry's practically my brother."

"I know, I know; I'm just teasing!" Ron raised his hands in supplication.

Harry grinned at the two of them. "I've missed you both so much!"

"And we've missed you, Harry." Hermione's smile was warm. "It's so good to see you again!"

He grinned at them broadly.

Hermione's gaze turned slightly accusatory. "You barely wrote to us; even though we wrote as often as we could! We didn't even get to see you on your birthday!"

Harry hung his head. He'd begged them not to throw a party for him this year on his birthday, and they'd reluctantly agreed. In doing so he'd managed to skive off going to the Burrow and avoid Ginny.

Something he wouldn't be able to do any longer.

"Harry!"

Just as suddenly as he'd ended up with an armful of Hermione a moment earlier, he now ended up with an armful of Ginny.

"Err, hey, Gin," he said awkwardly.

"We'll leave you two to catch up," Hermione said, winking at him. She grabbed a protesting Ron and dragged him off.

"Harry," Ginny murmured into his shoulder. "I missed you."

"Yeah. Me too," he lied. It wasn't technically a lie, he told himself. He  _would_  have missed her, if not for being so anxious about the impending discussion about their relationship.

"You didn't write to me at all!" she looked up at him accusingly, and he swallowed.

"I'm sorry. I just… had a lot of stuff going on."

"You still found time to write to Hermione and Ron once in a while!"

"Well, they're my best friends!"

It was the wrong thing to say. He knew it the moment the words were out of his mouth, and he winced. Ginny pulled back and scowled.

"And I'm your girlfriend!"

"You  _were_  my girlfriend," he corrected quietly. "We broke up over a year ago."

"Because you had to fight Voldemort, and because you wanted to protect me!"

"Yeah," he acknowledged. "But things change, Ginny."

She stared at him. "What are you saying, Harry?" she whispered.

He shifted. "I'd rather not do this here."

"Do what here? Break up with me?" her voice dripped sarcasm.

"We broke up over a year ago!"

"But we belong together, Harry!"

"Ginny, we only dated for a few weeks."

"That doesn't matter. You know no one will ever love you like I do, Harry. No one. Not ever."

"You can't know that, Ginny!" Harry was beginning to lose his temper. What he had with Draco might have been going on for only a month; but it felt deeper and more real than anything else ever had in his whole life. For Ginny to insinuate that what she felt for him transcended that felt a little insulting.

"So, what? You don't want to be with me anymore?"

"No!" he shouted.

She slapped him. Hard. Then she let out a sob and ran off towards the castle.

"Well you could have handled that better," Harry muttered to himself. He let out a sigh, raked his fingers through his hair, and trudged off to the Quidditch pitch. He needed some air.

* * *

_September 1_ _st_ _, 2017_

Scorpius Malfoy would always remember the moment he fell in love.

He was walking down the corridor on the Hogwarts Express, when a boy stepped out of the compartment in front of him. The boy looked up, and all Scorpius could see were his eyes.

His green, green eyes.

Scorpius had never seen such beautiful eyes.

The boy's lashes were long and dark, dusting across lightly tanned skin. He had messy black hair and glasses, but Scorpius barely noticed those things, so captivated was he by those eyes.

He needed to be friends with this boy.

He held out his hand. "Hi! I'm Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy."

The boy's lips twitched and he giggled. "Sorry," he said. "But your name might actually be even weirder than mine!"

Scorpius was stung. This boy was laughing at him, at his name. He opened his mouth to retort with a stinging reply and started to withdraw his hand, but the boy spoke first.

"I'm Albus Severus." He held out his hand, grasping Scorpius' and giving it a shake. "Us boys with weird names ought to stick together." He smiled brilliantly, and just like that, Scorpius was lost.

He smiled back, feeling unaccountably shy. He tried to rein it in – after all, he was a Malfoy; and Malfoys are  _not_  shy – but he couldn't help it. This boy somehow had brought him to his knees.

"That sounds good," he said lamely.

"Brilliant," said Albus. "You can call me Al."

Scorpius felt warmth spread through his chest. "I don't have a nickname," he admitted.

"What about Scorp? Or Score?"

"I kind of like Scorp," Scorpius said, after a moment's reflection. "Score sounds like I'm a Quidditch term."

Al laughed delightedly. "I'm going to like you," he said decisively.

Scorpius beamed.

"So, you didn't tell me your last name," he prompted. He wanted to know everything about Al.

"It's Potter," replied Al.

"Potter?" Scorpius asked wonderingly. "Like Harry Potter?"

"He's my dad." Al looked somewhat puzzled. "Why?"

"My dad says he's a great man," replied Scorpius. Al's smile returned in force.

"He is," Al agreed. "He's the greatest dad in the world."

Scorpius bristled. "My dad's pretty great, too, you know. I think  _he's_  the greatest."

Al chuckled. "I guess we'll just have to agree to disagree," he said. He shot Scorpius a crooked grin. "Wanna come sit with us?"

"Us?"

"Me an' Rose. She's brilliant; you'll like her. She's really smart."

A pang of jealousy shot through Scorpius. "I'm really smart, too," he said, puffing out his chest a little. Al chuckled.

"I'm sure you are. But come on; I wanna introduce you to my cousin."

At the words, "My cousin," relief coursed through Scorpius, though he couldn't say why. He smiled back. "Sounds great!"

He followed Al back into the compartment.

* * *

_September 1_ _st_ _, 1998_

Harry sat underneath the Gryffindor Quidditch stands, his head resting on his knees. He felt drained and frustrated. He hadn't meant to tell Ginny like that. He hadn't meant to lead her on.

But he'd been too much of a coward to come right out and tell her when he first realised he didn't want to be with her anymore, and now he'd bollocksed everything up. Again.

He felt like an awful person.

It didn't help knowing that his best mate was going to want to kill him for making Ginny cry. Not only for refusing to get back together with her after she'd waited for him, but for doing it the way he did.

Ron was already going to be pissed enough over the fact that Harry and Draco were not only friends, but roommates.

Bugger.

By now, half the school probably knew that he'd unceremoniously dumped Ginny on the Hogwarts' doorsteps. If not because of Ginny's theatrics, then because there had still been plenty of students around when it happened.

Bugger, bugger, bugger.

He closed his eyes and silently appealed to Merlin to keep it out of the Daily Prophet.

He was suddenly glad that Draco had asked him to keep their relationship a secret. Now was definitely not the time to tell  _anyone_.

"I thought I'd find you here."

Harry whipped his head up, startled.

Draco smirked. "Scared, Potter?"

Harry snorted.

Draco flopped down beside him, somehow managing to make the gesture look graceful and refined. The blond was so effortlessly sexy, it was astounding. Harry flushed and looked away, embarrassed to be getting turned on at a time like this.

Wordlessly, Draco handed him a napkin with a chicken leg and a roll wrapped in it. Harry accepted them gratefully, scarfing them down quickly.

"So it's all over the school that you very ungraciously broke up with the she-weasel on the school steps," Draco drawled. "I didn't realise you were still dating."

"We  _weren't_ ," Harry rolled his eyes. "But she was waiting for me, and to her, that amounts to the same thing." He sighed, and rubbed his temples. "I was planning on telling her gently. But she kept trying to insist that we were still together, or that we belonged together, and that no one would ever love me as much as she did. I got mad at her."

He buried his head in his hands. "I bollocks everything up, Draco."

Draco snorted. "Sounds to me like she deserved it."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You would say that. You don't like her."

Draco shrugged. "She's never given me a reason  _to_  like her," he said. "Besides, I hear it's only normal to hate your boyfriend's ex."

Harry chuckled. "You're a prat."

"And you love it," Draco smirked.

Harry looked sideways at him and thought,  _Yes. Yes, I think I do._

His heart fluttered just a bit and he smiled. He hoped he didn't look too sappy.

Draco quirked an eyebrow at him. "You know, I followed you out here for a reason, Potter," he said, and damn if the way he drawled the word "Potter" didn't make Harry's groin stir. He told it to be still.

"To cheer me up, I imagine," Harry responded. "Which you're incredibly good at, despite being such a git."

Draco chuckled. "Ah, but do you know  _how_  I planned to cheer you up?" he asked, his voice low and sultry.

Harry's mouth was suddenly very, very dry. Visions of the grinding and handjobs they'd shared over the last month whenever they'd been able to sneak away alone together flitted through his mind, and his groin stirred again. He silently reminded it that he'd told it to be still. As usual, it didn't listen very well.

"How?" he squeaked, and cursed his traitorous voice.

Draco just chuckled again; a throaty sound that did nothing to alleviate Harry's growing discomfort.

"Why don't I show you?" he purred, and before Harry knew it he'd been rolled onto his back, with Draco on top of him.

"Okay," he managed a very manly squeak, and Draco snickered.

He captured Harry's lips in a kiss, and when Harry gasped Draco's tongue snaked into his open mouth.

Harry moaned and their tongues slid together, the two boys eagerly exploring one another's mouths. Harry thought he must have already mapped every inch of Draco's by now, yet he couldn't help the frantic desire to retrace his path and do it all over again. The blond seemed to feel the same.

Harry wound his fingers through Draco's fine, white-blond hair. The blond moaned in appreciation as Harry's fingers massaged his scalp.

Draco's hands were running up and down the length of his body, and the two boys ground against each other, groaning as one hard length brushed against another through the cloth of their trousers and jeans.

Draco fumbled with Harry's zip and his cock twitched in anticipation of another handjob. He reached for Draco's buttons, but Draco batted his hand away, and finished undoing his jeans. Draco pulled out of the kiss, and Harry whimpered involuntarily. He tried to draw his boyfriend back in, but the Slytherin was having none of it.

"I want to try something," he said, a trifle breathless. Harry hesitated.

"We shouldn't do anything here. Someone might see us."

"I put up silencing spells; not to mention misdirection spells, Harry," Draco smirked. "Anyone who comes out to the pitch will suddenly be filled with a burning need to get a headstart on their schoolwork." He chuckled. "I'm gonna create an army of Grangers."

Harry smothered a laugh. "Prat," he said, smiling.

"Will you let me? Try something?"

Harry nodded his assent, and Draco motioned for him lift his hips. Harry did so and Draco drew his jeans and pants down, pulling them to his ankles. He sat there a moment, staring at Harry's cock hungrily.

"Merlin, you're beautiful," he murmured. Harry flushed, both from the praise and the scrutiny. This was the first time Draco had actually seen him without pants, and he felt a little bit self-conscious. Then Draco leaned forward and licked the head of his prick, and Harry cried out.

"Fuck, Draco; fuck!"

Draco smirked. "Thought you might like that." He bent down again and this time, he licked a stripe from the base of Harry's cock to the tip. Harry clawed the ground and gasped.

"Ohhhhhh, Merlin," he groaned. "Draco!"

Draco chuckled, his breath blowing across the wet skin where he'd just run his tongue, and Harry shivered at the sensation. Then he took Harry's prick in his mouth, and Harry arched back, gasping and mewling as Draco ran his tongue along the head of his prick.

He'd never felt anything like it before, and Merlin! It was bloody amazing.

Then Draco took him deeper, and he cried out again at the sensation of his cock being enveloped by that hot, wet mouth.

Draco bobbed his head, working the base of Harry's cock with his hand while his tongue did obscene things to the shaft. His teeth scraped a couple of times, and his movements were somewhat awkward, but Harry thought it was brilliant. The most brilliant idea Draco had ever had. Draco was now the god of all brilliant ideas. Harry was going to build him a goddamn shrine.

He twisted and writhed until Draco, held his hips down, locking him in place. He moaned loud and long. He didn't know what to do with his hands; one minute, he'd be running them through Draco's hair, the next, he'd be clawing at the ground and mewling as Draco did something particularly nice with his tongue.

It didn't take too long before his balls began to tighten, and he tugged at the fine blond strands. "Draco," he gasped. "I'm gonna-"

He came crying out Draco's name. Draco choked a little, but tried to swallow anyway. Harry's orgasm felt like it lasted forever.

He'd never come so hard in his life, and after it was done he whimpered, while Draco gave his softening cock a few last, light licks.

"Merlin, Draco," he panted, eyes fluttering shut. "Merlin."

Draco crawled back up to kiss him, and as their tongues danced Harry tasted himself in Draco's mouth; bitter and salty.

Breaking the kiss, he gestured down. "Do you want me to…?"

Draco flushed. "I already came," he admitted. "That was really hot."

Harry chuckled, and pulled his boyfriend in for a kiss.

"You're brilliant, you know."

"I know."

* * *

_September 1_ _st_ _, 2017_

Al chewed his lip nervously and watched his new friend, Scorpius, as he walked up to the Sorting Hat. Scorpius had told them on the train how he hoped to be a Slytherin. They had told him how they hoped to be Gryffindors. But all of them had become fast friends rather quickly, and were filled with an intense dislike of the idea of being in different houses.

That's when Al shared his father's secret. He hoped his dad wouldn't mind.

" _So you can just ask to be in Gryffindor," he said triumphantly. But Scorpius didn't look overjoyed. He looked scared._

" _My parents will be really disappointed if I'm not in Slytherin," he said sadly. "I don't think I can, Al."_

_Al and Rose were silent for a moment._

" _Then we'll just have to be in Slytherin with you!" he declared. Rose looked scandalized._

" _Al! Do you know what my dad would say if I was sorted into Slytherin? What about your dad? What would he think?"_

" _That Slytherin house had gained a fine new student," answered Al proudly. "He told me so before we got on the train. I was worried that I might get sorted into Slytherin, and he told me it wouldn't matter. That one of the men I'm named after was a Slytherin, and he was the bravest man Dad ever knew." He paused. "He also said that Slytherin might need people like me to improve its image."_

_Silence followed this statement._

" _Well," Rose said thoughtfully, a gleam coming into her eyes. "It would be pretty funny to see Dad's reaction if I sorted Slytherin."_

_She and Al exchanged glances, and burst into giggles. Scorpius sat there, looking confused._

_The two of them turned to him._

" _If you sort Slytherin, Scorp," said Al._

" _We'll ask the Hat to put us there, too," finished Rose._

_Scorpius' face had split in a huge smile. Forgetting everything his father had taught him about being dignified, he threw his arms around the necks of his two new best friends._

" _Thanks," he whispered. "I'm really happy."_

_The two of them laughed and hugged him back._

Al held his breath as the Hat was placed on Scorp's head.

This was it.

The moment of truth.

"Slytherin!" the Hat called out, and Al smiled as he clapped along with everyone else.

It looked like Slytherin house would be gaining not only a Malfoy, but a Potter and a Weasley as well tonight.

They wouldn't know what hit them.

* * *

_September 2_ _nd_ _, 2017_

"Harry!"

Harry looked up, startled, from where he sat at his desk in the Head Auror's office. He quickly slid his feet off the desk. Ron was standing in the doorway, red-faced and panting. His freckles stood out in sharp relief on his white face, and his red hair was practically standing on end. He grabbed a handful and tugged at it manically.

"Harry, it's awful. It's horrible! Something's gone terribly wrong! You have to go to Hogwarts!"

Panic flared in Harry's gut. "Is it James? Al? Are they alright?"

"It's Al, Harry. And Rose… sweet Rosie; my little Rose," wailed Ron. He staggered inside and grasped the edges of Harry's desk, scattering paperwork everywhere.

Harry's heart pounded and his vision swam.  _Al_ , he thought.  _Oh, no, Al. Rose._

"What happened?" he asked, struggling to keep his voice calm and controlled. He needed to know the facts. Then he would leave the Ministry, Apparate to Hogwarts' gates and run to the castle to see his son. But first he needed to know what had happened.

"It's awful, Harry; it's horrible! The worst thing that could happen!" Ron was in a state. Harry was feeling little better.  _The worst…_

"Are they…" he couldn't finish.  _Dead? Oh, sweet Merlin, don't let them be dead._

He seized his best mate, his brother-in-law by the shoulders and shook him. "Tell me what happened, Ron!" He couldn't keep the panic out of his voice. Ron seemed comforted by the fact that Harry was now nearly as distraught as he was, and spoke.

"They were sorted!" he burst out.

Harry blinked, his arms falling limply to his sides.

"Sorted?" he repeated weakly.

Ron nodded, miserably. "Last night."

Harry stared.

Then he closed his eyes and reminded himself that no, he did not want to kill his best mate. Hermione and the rest of the Weasleys – including his wife – might not take kindly to the idea. Then there was the small matter of his being the head of the MLE. It would not do to commit murder, however good the provocation.

_Would make it easier to hide the body, though,_ his brain supplied helpfully.

He sighed, and opened his eyes again. Ron was moaning, head in his hands.

"They were sorted," he repeated woefully.

"Well, that's usually what happens at the Sorting Ceremony," Harry said cautiously.

"Into…" Ron swallowed and closed his eyes. "Slytherin," he whispered, his voice fraught with horror.

Harry drew in a deep breath. "Ron," he said carefully. "Is that really the worst thing that could happen to them?"

Ron's head snapped up and he gazed at Harry with wide, startled eyes.

"You bloody well bet it is!" he said, voice quavering. "We need to go to Hogwarts and demand a resorting! They'll listen to you; you're the bloody Boy Who Lived!"

Harry closed his eyes again and rolled them heavenwards.  _Merlin, grant me patience,_  he thought.  _And the strength to avoid strangling my friend._

"Ron," he said calmly. "I'm not going to ask for a resorting."

"But… didn't you hear me, mate? They're in Slytherin!  _Slytherin!"_

"I heard you," answered Harry calmly. "And I think that this might be the best thing to happen to Slytherin house for a very long time."

Ron's jaw dropped, and he moved it up and down vaguely for a few minutes, as if trying to remember how to work it.

"They'll be eaten alive," he whispered. "My baby girl; my poor, defenceless baby girl… at the mercy of all those… those snakes!"

Harry snorted. Rose Weasley was many things; defenceless was not one of them.

"They'll be fine, Ron." He eyed the redhead speculatively.

"'Fine', he says," Ron moaned. "Bloody hell, Harry; how can you say that when they're stuck down there with all those snakes?"

"It might do to remember that our children  _are_  those snakes, now, Ron," chided Harry.

Ron scowled. "You're worse than Hermione."

Harry grinned.

Later that day, when Al's letter arrived, he thought he'd already gotten the shocking news out of the way.

Then he read his son's letter.

And promptly spilled his tea.

_Dear Dad,_

_Rose already wrote to Uncle Ron last night (she said she couldn't wait to get her Howler; I think she's crazy) and told him about being sorted, so you probably already know that I'm in Slytherin._

_What you probably don't know is that we both asked to be there._

_You see, we made a really good friend on the train, and he was going to be going into Slytherin all alone – at least, he thought he was probably going into Slytherin, because all his family have._

_His name's Scorpius. Scorpius Malfoy. I think his dad knows you. He said his dad calls you "a great man"._

_Me and Scorp are roommates now. I think he's gonna be my best friend, Dad._

_I remembered what you told me about Slytherin, and I hope you're proud of me, just a little._

_I'm looking forward to being another good Slytherin._

_Love,_

_Al_

Harry sat there in shock. He read the letter again.

_Scorpius Malfoy._

His heart clenched painfully.

_His dad calls you "a great man"._

Harry swallowed around the lump in his throat. He closed his eyes, and for long moments, he kept them shut while he struggled to get his emotions back under control.

_I think he's going to be my best friend_.

It seemed that, for better or for worse, Draco Malfoy was going to be a part of his life. Again.

He had no way of knowing that in a house in Wiltshire, a pale, blond man sat with his head in his hands, staring blankly at a letter of his own, his stomach churning just as much as Harry's was.

It wouldn't have made Harry feel any better if he had.

* * *

_September 1_ _st_ _, 1998_

Harry crept into the eighth years' common room. Draco had agreed to follow him up after fifteen minutes to avoid attracting suspicion. Harry hoped he could avoid a scene. After the incredible blowjob his boyfriend had given him outside, he didn't want anything to spoil his mood.

No such luck.

No sooner did he step through the portrait hole when a familiar voice yelled, "What the bloody hell are you playing at?"

Harry closed his eyes and tried not to sigh. Apparently they were going to have it out now. And apparently, all the other eighth-years were going to watch. "Ron." He turned. Ron's face was flushed, his blue eyes filled with fury.

"Do you know how long Ginny cried for, Harry? How could you just break up with her like that?"

"We weren't together anymore, Ron!" Harry shot back, annoyed that everyone was treating him as though he and Ginny had never broken up to begin with. "We were together for a few weeks and we broke up over a year and a half ago!"

Ron's face purpled. "How could you? Treating her like that? I thought you were better than that, Harry!"

Ron was seething.

"Ron," Harry closed his eyes. "I don't just like girls. I like blokes, too."

Ron's anger was temporarily halted by a combination of astonishment and confusion. "Wha-?" he managed. He shook his head, clearing it. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"I like blokes, but I could never be interested in you because you're too much like a brother to me. You know?"

Ron still looked irate and confused.

"It's the same with Ginny. I was confused and lonely; she was crazy about me, and I was desperate to be a part of your family. But she's like a sister to me and once I started being honest with myself, I had to admit that that's all there was to that. And yeah, I should have talked to her as soon as I realised that, but I didn't know what to say. And I didn't want to do it while staying at your house, because that would have made things really awkward. And it wasn't something I could send in an owl or do over floo, right?"

Ron appeared to be listening, though he still looked furious. "You didn't seem to care about her feelings tonight, though!"

Harry closed his eyes. "Ron, I didn't want to have that conversation with her on the steps, but she was the one who wouldn't let it go. She tried to insist that we were still together, and when I tried to be nice about things, basically told me no one else could ever love me so I couldn't break up with her." He opened his eyes and looked at Ron, his eyes hardening.

"I think I have a right to be angry about that. I think that anyone facing someone who would be saying things like that while claiming to love them would lose their temper and stop trying to be nice."

"She… Ginny wouldn't say that." Ron looked a trifle uncertain.

"She would, and she did, Ron." Harry's voice was flinty. "She knows the childhood I had just like you do, and was trying to manipulate me. I understand that she's hurting right now, so I didn't take her to task for it. But don't expect me to apologize to you for any of it."

He turned and made to stomp off to his bedroom, only to realise he had no idea which one was his, since he'd skipped out on the Sorting Feast in the Great Hall, where room assignments had been handed out. He slammed his fist into the wall in frustration, and gritted his teeth.

"Can anyone tell me where my room is?" he asked.

Ron cleared his throat. "Harry, there's something you should know… we're not rooming together. I talked to McGonagall, but she has all of this inter-house unity nonsense crap she was spouting off about, and she refused to change the arrangements."

Harry rolled his eyes, glad he was facing away from the redhead. Ron coughed.

"She put you in with  _Malfoy_."

Harry sighed, running his fingers through his messy black hair. "I know, Ron."

Ron stared. "You know? How?"

"Because Draco and I became friends over the summer, and in the spirit of promoting inter-house unity, we asked to be placed together."

"You- what?  _What_?" Ron's face grew apoplectic.

Harry rolled his eyes again. He didn't bother hiding the irritation in his tone. "Can someone who's not Ron please just tell me which room is mine, so that I can go lie down? I have a massive headache."

Seamus got up. "I'll show ya, Harry," he said in a quieter, more subdued version of his Irish brogue. Harry followed him gratefully, tuning Ron out as he left. He'd deal with Ron once he'd slept, and once his friend had calmed down. Inside his new room, he threw himself down on the bed and closed his eyes.

_Merlin, what a mess,_  he thought. Once again, he was intensely grateful he and Draco were keeping their relationship a secret for now.

This wasn't the time to tell anyone.

* * *

_September 2nd, 2017_

_Rose,_

_Are you alright? Have the snakes hurt you yet?_

_I'm so sorry. Maybe it's not too late to send you to Beauxbatons._

_Your mother hit me in the back of the head when I suggested it, but I'll bring her round._

_Don't worry. I'll get you out of that viper den, I promise._

_Love,_

_Dad_

* * *

_September 3rd, 2017_

_Dad,_

_Oh my GODS Dad! Calm down!_

_I'm fine. No one's hurt me. They're actually incredibly friendly and I love it here._

_I don't want to go to Beauxbatons. Mom, keep whacking him in the back of the head when he talks about it._

_I AM one of those snakes now, Dad. And that's fine. I like being a snake._

_Please don't try to rescue me._

_Rose_

* * *

_September 3rd, 2017_

_Rose,_

_Obviously that last letter was written under duress. Who forced you to write it?_

_I'm working on your Mom, but she's awfully stubborn. Closed-minded, your mother is._

_Enclosed please find something you may be able to use to escape._

_Love,_

_Dad_

* * *

_September 4th, 2017_

_Dad,_

_I am NOT under duress. I like it here. My new friends are awesome. Please don't mention Beauxbatons again._

_One really good friend I've made is Scorpius Malfoy. He's Al's new best friend. They're inseparable. He's really smart and funny and cute. The three of us go everywhere together._

_And Dad? I know you love old muggle movies and everything, but a file isn't going to help me saw my way out of the dungeons._

_Please just be happy for me._

_Love,_

_Rose_

* * *

_September 5th 2017_

_Rose,_

_Scorpius Malfoy? Cute? You're scaring me, Rosie. Please stay away from him._

_Don't worry, hunny. I'm going to save you._

_Dad_

* * *

_September 6th, 2017_

_Dad,_

_Please stop trying to save me._

_At least now you know I'm not being forced into anything._

_Don't ever try to break into Hogwarts to rescue me again. That was just embarrassing._

_I'm not writing to you anymore until you stop being so prejudiced and melodamatic._

_Rose_

* * *

_Mom,_

_You have to stop Dad._

_He tried to break me out of Hogwarts last night. He threatened my friend Scorpius and now Scorpius is terrified that Dad's going to come after him._

_I don't have a crush on him. I called him cute to give Dad something different to worry about because I thought it would distract him from my being a Slytherin. It backfired._

_Don't worry. I'm not thinking about boys yet. Tell Dad that and tell him to CALM DOWN._

_Please stop letting him watch old muggle movies. He was stalking me in a trench coat and a fedora before Headmistress McGonagall made him leave._

_How are you and Hugo getting on?_

_I love it here, except for the Dad-sneaking-in part._

_Love,_

_Rose_

* * *

_September 6th, 2017_

_Rose,_

_Hugo and I are doing well. We miss you terribly._

_I'm glad you're enjoying Hogwarts. I loved it, too._

_It's good thay you're not thinking about boys. It would only distract you from your studies._

_Have you started preparing for your exams yet? It's never too early to start._

_Your father has been dealt with. Uncle Harry and I are sorting him out._

_Love,_

_Mom_

* * *

_Weasel,_

_Stay away from my son._

_I should hate to send the Aurors after you._

_Threaten him again and I will eviscerate you._

_D. Malfoy_

* * *

_Semtember 9th, 2017_

_Dad,_

_How are you and Mum and Lily? I miss you guys._

_James is a pain and a bully. I wish you'd sent him to Durmstrang._

_I love it here, though. Please don't ever do anything like Uncle Ron. It was hilarious but Rose was really embarrassed._

_Poor Scorp is still terrified. I'm looking after him, though. He seems to be okay as long as I stick close._

_Being a Slytherin is awesome. They have this whole code of honour you have to swear to when you come into the common room on the first day. I can't tell you any more than that because I'm not allowed._

_Don't worry. It's nothing bad or Dark. Just loyalty and stuff._

_Love to all of you,_

_Al_

* * *

_October 1st, 2017_

_Dad,_

_How are you guys?_

_Hogwarts is so cool. You were right - I love DADA. Professor Diggle is a little strange; he talks about you like you're the second coming of Merlin. But he's fair and a good teacher._

_Charms is awesome, too. I'm really good at it. Professor Flitwick is so cool._

_Neville -Professor Longbottom, I mean - is loads of fun. I'm not that into Herbology but he explains stuff really well and makes class pretty fun._

_Scorp and I got James back for all the pranks he's been playing on us. For someone so good at Potions he sure isn't careful about what he eats. He stood up on the Gryffindor table and danced the entire first act of The Nutcracker on the table at supper._

_Tell Uncle George we said thank you._

_Give Mum my love, and tell Lily that she'd better be a Slytherin when she comes to Hogwarts. It's way more fun than being a Gryffindor. No offense._

_Love you guys!_

_Al_

* * *

_November 5th, 2017_

_Dad,_

_I'm glad that you guys are having fun. I am kind of jealous that you guys went to a Quidditch match without me, though._

_Speaking of Quidditch, Scorp wrote this hilarious song about James that we (all the Slytherins) sang when he played last. You should have seen the look on his face._

_He still caught the Snitch, though._

_Yes, you were right about him getting us back for the Nutcracker prank. No, I don't want to talk about it._

_Tell Uncle George I said he's a traitor._

_I'm almost head of my class in Charms and DADA. I'm tutoring Scorp in DADA and he's tutoring me in Potions. Rose is tutoring us in everything else._

_Give my love to everybody, yeah?_

_Al_

* * *

_December 3rd, 2017_

_Dad,_

_Can't write much - Rose has me and Scorp on a crazy study schedule for exams._

_She should have been a Ravenclaw. Except she's too devious and cunning. Maybe she sorted right after all. She probably would have been a Slytherin even without asking the hat._

_Love all of you guys,_

_Al_

* * *

_September 15th, 1998_

Harry was enjoying life.

He and Ron had finally patched things up, and he and his friends were enjoying spending time together again. He didn't get much time with Draco during the day anymore, though, and it was frustrating.

He missed his boyfriend.

Ron and Hermione – indeed, many of the new couples that had formed after the Battle of Hogwarts – were constantly together, smiling into one another's eyes, enjoying each other's company and the soft, occasional touches that set them apart as being couples from those who were merely friends.

Harry wanted that with Draco. He could spend time with Draco, but only as friends. It was nearly as bad as when he'd fancied Draco but thought it was all one-sided. Except now that he knew it wasn't, he wanted to announce it from the rooftops. Or at least, to be able to put his arms around his boyfriend when they were together, without worrying who might be around.

He wanted all the girls who hung around Draco to leave him alone, to stop touching him and flirting with him. He wanted to claim Draco in front of everyone.

He lived for the nights where they would ward the door and climb into each other's beds, talk in whispers and kiss and touch and bring each other off before sinking into a sated, blissful sleep.

He was waiting up for Draco, and had decided to discuss the possibility of telling his friends with the blond again. He wanted to be able to double date with them, even if no one else would know it was a double date. To hang out with them and still be able to slide his arms around his boyfriend; to kiss him, or be affectionate with him.

Draco finally came into their room, having detached himself from his Slytherin hangers-on. He shot their usual locking and silencing charms at the door over his shoulder and shrugged off his school robes. He folded them caregully and laid them on the end of his bed.

"Draco?"

"Harry." Draco turned, his smile genuine. He looked so happy to see Harry, it gave him butterflies. The blond crossed the room and kissed him deeply. Harry responded eagerly, bringing his arms up around Draco's neck and pulling him down onto the bed. They kissed for a few more minutes before Harry pulled back and rested his head against Draco's, closing his eyes and letting out a contented sigh.

"Can we talk?"

"What about, Harry?"

"I was wondering about telling my friends about us. I know they won't tell anyone, Draco. I swear."

Draco was silent for a few minutes. "So, you're saying that Weasley won't freak out and have a public fit over it, like he tends to do?"

"I'd tell him somewhere private."

"And he won't keep freaking out about it for a while after you tell him? He won't come after me, demanding explanations or possibly my head, whether I happen to be in a public location or not?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Hermione, then," he started, but Draco cut him off.

"You're telling me she won't tell him, or won't guilt you into telling him."

Harry was silent again. He wanted to reassure Draco, but now that he thought about it, he couldn't  _be_  sure. While he had no problems with outing the two of them, Draco obviously did, because of his parents. And unless Harry could promise him that telling his friends wouldn't risk anyone else finding out, he didn't have the right to demand that they go public yet.

"How long do you think it'll be before you're ready, Draco?" he asked softly.

Draco was silent. "I don't know," he admitted. "A long time, maybe." He bit his lip. "Are you- do you want to break things off? I understand if you'd rather find someone else." His face and voice were a study in indifference, but his eyes were sad and frightened.

Harry kissed him softly. "Of course not," he answered. "I don't want anyone else. Just you."

Draco kissed him fiercely then, the two of them twisting against one another with Harry's blanket between them.

The hunger in the way Draco's lips attacked his told him how much Draco wanted him, needed him. That the longing Harry felt was in no way one-sided. He tried to convey that to Draco in his kisses, the way his body responded to his lover's.

Draco licked his neck, then nipped it, running his tongue over the bite and kissing it. Harry mewled. He didn't care that it would leave a mark; they were always careful to spell away any love bites in the morning before leaving.

Draco broke away and stood, shedding his shirt and trousers as he went. Harry's breath quickened as Draco pulled off his undershirt and pants. They'd spent some time experimenting with blow-jobs, enjoying the learning process together, but this time Harry had a feeling they were about to take things a little further.

Draco stood before him, pale skin gleaming in the moonlight from the open window, and Harry's breath caught. He was slender, but his muscles were defined; smooth biceps, hard pectorals, firm abs. All gleaming pale milky-white perfection, from his head white-blond head to his pedicured toes. The only exceptions to this were the silvery lines across his chest; mementos of Sectumsempra, and the pink of his cock, jutting from a nest of soft gold curls, erect against his abdomen.

He was beautiful; ethereal, an Adonis, and he was Harry's. Harry reached for him.

"Come here," he breathed. Draco smiled and slipped under the covers with him. Harry hesitated a moment, then slid his own t-shirt and pants off, while Draco smiled at him, lying on his side with his head propped up on one arm.

"No fair," he teased. "You saw me naked, and you're hiding under the covers."

Harry looked at Draco through long, sultry black lashes. "Maybe I am, so I suppose it's only fair that you  _feel_ me naked." He pulled Draco on top of him, rolling the blond so that he settled between Harry's thighs. They both gasped at the contact. Draco ground down, but it was so different from all the times they'd done this with their pants on.

This time the delicious feeling of skin on skin accompanied the usual sensations, and it made them heady with desire. They rolled their hips together, groaning as cock rutted against cock. Harry could feel the precome that leaked from the tips smear wetly against his stomach.

They frotted against one another. The ridges and veins Harry had felt along his tongue he now felt against his prick. The soft touch of Draco's skin coupled with the hardness and silkiness of his cock made Harry's head swim.

He opened his legs wider, straining for more friction; more sensation. He shifted just so to line their cocks up perfectly, and seized Draco's mouth with his own. They kissed passionately; frenzied by the desire that shot through them with each slide of skin against skin. Draco thrust his prick against Harry's, sliding along it and spreading precome between them.

Their tongues met, danced, battled for dominance. They gasped and groaned into one another's mouths as they moved together. Harry sucked on Draco's tongue, and Draco moaned like a three-knut whore.

Harry reached up between them, grabbing their cocks in a fumbling fist, rubbing the precome over them and making Draco moan again. Or maybe that was him.

He smeared the leaking fluid all over their cocks, fisting them awkwardly. They both moaned this time. Draco's hand joined his. Together their hands formed a narrow channel around their pricks and they both thrust up into it.

Faster and faster, harder, their vocalising getting louder as they neared the end, Harry felt that this was the most brilliant thing he'd ever experienced.

His balls tightened and he erupted with a cry, arching his back and coming across his abs, up onto his chest. Draco bit down on his shoulder and followed. Once his cock stopped spurting, he collapsed against Harry's chest and Harry wrapped his arms around his lover. Their bodies shuddered together, trembling in the aftershocks of their orgasms.

"Wow," he breathed when he was able to speak again.

"Wow," Draco echoed, then chuckled against his shoulder. Harry tightened his arms around Draco. Their come lay cooling between their bodies, but neither was inclined to move just yet.

Draco murmured in Harry's ear; all the trivialies of his day, and Harry murmured his own back. They lay quietly together for a while, before Draco began squirming and grabbed Harry's wand. With a flick of his wrist and an incantation he spelled them both clean.

"Hey, I didn't say you could use that!" Harry said in mock outrage. Draco bit him in response.

"Prat," Harry grumbled, and Draco's soft laughter made him smile.

They snuggled together, wrapped around one another, nuzzling each other's necks and exchanging gentle kisses.

They quieted, and Harry began to drift off.

"I don't want to lose you."

Harry opened his eyes. Draco's voice was low, and so vulnerable that it sounded utterly unlike him. Harry almost thought he had imagined it, but Draco continued.

"I don't want to lose you, but I need time. Someday... I promise, someday I'll be ready. I just need time."

Harry smiled. "I don't want to lose you either, you git," he said fondly. "And that's all I'm asking for. Someday. Okay?"

Draco kissed his shoulder and he kissed the blond's hair. Together they drifted off to sleep.

* * *

_December 22_ _nd_ _, 2017_

Harry stood with Ginny, Lily, Ron, Hermione, and Hugo on Platform 9 ¾'s, waiting for the Hogwarts Express. He pointedly ignored the fact that Draco Malfoy was standing a few feet away, pointedly ignoring him as well.

Which was fine.

Brilliant.

Harry was absolutely fucking miserable.

He was hyper-aware of the other man's presence, but fought to maintain an outward air of calm. He wouldn't give Malfoy the satisfaction of seeing how he could still affect Harry after all these years, and he wouldn't do Ginny the disservice.

So they stood there, pointedly  _not_  looking at each other, or acknowledging one another in any way, until the Hogwarts Express came in and their children came tumbling off the train.

"Dad! Mum!" yelled Al and Rose in near-perfect unison, launching themselves at their parents. Harry laughed as Al's arms went about his waist, and he tousled his youngest son's messy black locks.

"Hey Dad, Mum!" called James, grinning ear-to-ear as he followed them.

Everyone was excited and there was laughter and hugs all around, and even a little bit of tears.

Then Al yelled, "Hey, Scorp!" and Harry's heart leapt into his throat, as he looked in the direction Al was waving madly at. Where Draco was having a much more reserved reunion with his son.

Al tugged at Harry's hand. "Com'on Dad; I want you to meet Scorp!"

A pit of dread opened up in Harry's stomach as his son tugged him towards Scorpius and his father. Towards Draco.

"Scorp, this is my Dad!"

"Hello, Mr. Potter. It's nice to meet you," said Scorpius politely, holding out a hand for Harry to shake. Harry felt a strange sense of deja vu as he clasped the small hand. The little boy looked so much like Draco had at his age, it was mind-boggling.

He smiled. "It's nice to meet you, Scorpius. Al's talked about you in all of his letters." The small blond boy blushed. Harry decided right away that he liked Al's friend. He seemed to have inherited none of hos father's arrogance.

"You know my dad, right, Mr. Potter?" Scorpius asked, and reluctantly, Harry looked up. His eyes met Draco's and he almost gasped as the intensity of the other man's gaze bore into him. He couldn't look away. Awareness of everything and everyone around him faded as he stared into a storm of grey, a gale that caught him up and buffeted him mercilessly.

Those eyes turned almost tender in their expression, filled with a longing that seemed to echo his own heart.

Harry's breath caught. Lost in Draco's eyes, the years faded away to nothing. It was just the two of them, as it had always been.

As he'd thought it always would be.

That was the thought that broke through his reverie and made him pull back, tearing his eyes away and stiffening his shoulders. Draco had no right to affect him still. No right at all.

"Can Scorp come over during the break?" asked Al eagerly.

Harry's eyes widened marginally, and he turned to Ginny, who shot him a smile that was more of a grimace. "Uhm, maybe," Harry said noncommittally. "His parents might like to keep him home."

"Actually, it might be good for Scorpius to get out for a little while. He's never gone to visit a friend before. It might be good for him." Draco was smirking as he said the words, and it made Harry angry.

He opened his mouth and nearly snapped a reply, but remembering the children swallowed it down. "It'll be up to my wife," he said coolly. "And your wife might have something to say about it as well."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Highly unlikely. Scorpius will be staying with me throughout the winter break."

Harry blinked in confusion.

"We're divorced, Potter; surely you've heard. Divorce is rather uncommon in the wizarding world."

No, Harry hadn't heard. And it made him want to scream, because the woman Draco had left him for was gone, the marriage Draco had chosen over him hadn't even lasted. He'd told Draco as much, before he'd told his lover not to come back unless he broke his engagement to Astoria first.

The fact that he'd been right tasted bitter in Harry's mouth.

"Well I'm still married," he said, gazing into Draco's eyes levelly, resolving not to let himself get lost in them again. "And my wife might have something to say about it." Draco winced slightly.

"Mom!" hollered Al. "Please,  _please_  can Scorp visit over the break?  _Pleeeease?"_

Ginny sighed. "I suppose, if it's alright with his parents."

Draco smirked again. "Ill see you again soon, Potter," he drawled. Leaning closer he whispered, "Happy Christmas, Harry."

Harry's breath hitched, and his groin stirred at the low tone he hadn't heard in so long.

He was well and truly fucked.


	4. Halloween

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco brings Scorpius over to visit in the present; Harry and Draco finally "do the deed" in the past.

**Chapter Three:**  Halloween 

 **Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy have far more claim on me than I do on them. Sadly. 

 **Warnings:** Sex; glorious gay sex

 **A/N:**  I am SO SORRY that I haven't updated in so long! I got REALLY sick for a while; I was hospitalized and everything. Now I don't have as much internet access as I used to, so it's hard to get time to write. Then add to that that it's nearly impossible to write a sex scene when you've got someone looking over your shoulder every time you try to write, and I think it's understandable that this took a while to finish. :P But, I am back, and will continue updating my stories as quickly as I can. :) 

Sorry for the wait, and I love you all! :D

* * *

 

_I don't want to live a lie_   
_But I don't want to say goodbye_   
_And I can't let you go even though it's over_   
_I just can't let you go_   
_Though your love is growing colder_   
_One look in my eyes and you'd realize_   
_That you got my heart in your hands_   
_Won't you let me know something more_   
_Where did we go wrong?_

_Rainbow - Can't Let You Go_

* * *

 

_October 31st, 1998_

Harry smiled weakly as he faced Ron and Hermione’s latest matchmaking attempt. They had noticed he looked rather forlorn whenever the couples around him acted like couples; and once he’d finally convinced them that he wasn’t regretting not getting back together with Ginny, they’d taken it upon themselves to Find Him Someone.

Harry loved them; he really did, but they were driving him crazy and refused to accept that he might really mean it when he said he didn’t need them to find him someone. So it was that, almost every other day, he was forced into the company of some awestruck Harry Potter worshipper who wanted to date him.

Whenever Harry tried to protest the fourth addition to their trio, both of them insisted that he should just spend time with these people and see if any of them clicked. Most were girls, but there had been one gay boy and one bisexual boy. Considering that the general attitude of the wizarding world towards homosexuality was along the lines of “don’t ask, don’t tell”, Harry had to admit it was pretty brave of them. He had no idea how his friends were finding these people, and suspected he’d be better off not knowing. At the end of every one of these days, he would pull Hermione aside and hiss, “Absolutely not. Not in this or any other lifetime,” into her ear.

He’d learned early on that while no matter how emphatic he was about not needing their matchmaking efforts they wouldn’t listen to him, if he was truly and deeply vehement about not wanting to date the person they’d just forced him to spend all of his free time with that day, he could avoid having them bring the same person around again and giving whoever it was unfounded hopes. Unfortunately for Harry, no amount of vehemence could get them to let him ditch whoever it was prematurely, and his only escape lay in claiming earlier and earlier bedtimes.

He only escaped having his bedroom invaded by insisting that Draco didn’t like to have his space disturbed, and that Harry had agreed not to bring visitors into their room.  Ron had tried to grouch over the unfairness of Malfoy ordering Harry around, and Harry had cut him off by reminding Ron that Draco was his friend and added that he didn’t mind. He said, glaring pointedly, that he could definitely see the value in refusing to share your space any more than you absolutely had to.

“It’s nice to know I have a sanctuary where I can go to get away from everyone.”

“Except the ferret,” snapped Ron, feeling mildly hurt that Harry would want to get away from him.

“Yes, well, he’s my friend and we hardly ever spend time together since school started; not to mention that he never tries to set me up with anyone, so I don’t mind.”

Harry wished he could tell his friends that Draco was the reason none of their matchmaking attempts would work, but he understood Draco’s reasons for keeping quiet, and respected his boyfriend enough to honour them. He also realised, considering how hard they tried to convince him that simply being friends with Malfoy was A Really Bad Idea, that telling them he and Draco were more than friends would probably be catastrophic. It might be enough to rip their fledgling relationship apart. So he was actually grateful to Draco for making him wait to tell his friends.

For now, though, he simply offered Amy Farnsworth, a seventh year Hufflepuff, a smile that was really a bit more like a grimace and tried to pay enough attention to her story so that he wouldn’t be completely lost when he was expected to comment on it. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings by revealing that he’d been woolgathering.

“-And then I told her that I’d never heard of a charm that could do that, and she said-“

He had a colossal headache coming on, and found himself resenting the way that rules about which table students were required to sit at had been relaxed in the name of interhouse unity. Ron and Hermione used it to have each and every one of his “dates” join them at meals, regardless of house.

“-But I just couldn’t believe that it was possible – I mean, would you have ever thought that was possible, Harry?”

“I’m discovering that a lot of things I never would have thought were possible, in fact are not only quite possible, but also rather probable,” he told her solemnly. He shoved the last bite of his supper in his mouth, and stood.

“Where you off to, Harry?” Ron blinked at him in astonishment. “They haven’t even served pudding yet!”

“Migraine,” Harry replied shortly. “I’m gonna go lie down, alright? Nice to meet you, Amy,” he added, giving the girl a nod. At Hermione’s brightening face he mouthed across the table and over Amy’s head, “Over my dead body”.

He fled from the Great Hall, clutching his temples between his forefingers and gritting his teeth. He hurried to the infirmary, hoping to beg a headache draught from Madam Pomfrey. His one comfort during these awful meals was the ability to look over to the Slytherin table and see Draco laughing at him.

Draco always seemed to find his predicament hilarious, though he’d gotten quite jealous on both occasions where Harry’s companion happened to be a boy. But tonight Draco had been absent from the Slytherin table. He wondered if Draco was feeling poorly as well, and if he would be lying down in their room. If so, Harry would run down to the kitchens to get him some food; if not, he would use the Mauraders’ Map to track his boyfriend down.

“Madam Pomfrey?” Harry called as he stepped into the hospital wing. “May I have a headache draught, please? I have a terrible migraine.”

“My goodness, Mr. Potter!” The mediwitch moved to her potions cabinet. “You’ve had an unusual number of migraines this year! Do you have any idea as to what might be the cause?”

“Yeah; two causes, named Ron and Hermione.”

Madam Pomfrey’s lips twitched. “Really, Mr. Potter,” she said.

Harry shrugged. “They keep forcing me to spend time with random people, hoping I’ll start dating one of them. They refuse to listen to what I want. What I want is to be left alone. Can’t you diagnose me with something that makes it terribly dangerous for me to date anyone? Please?”

There was a suspicious choking sound from behind a curtained off bed, as if someone was unsuccessfully attempting to stifle laughter. 

Madam Pomfrey smiled sympathetically. “I’m afraid all I can do is give you a headache draught when you need one, dear.” She hurried over with his potion, and Harry downed it gratefully.

“Thanks. Guess I’ll just go lie down, now,” Harry said, handing her back the empty vial.

“I’ll go with you,” called Draco’s voice, and Draco himself stepped out from behind the curtain. “I can leave now, right Madam Pomfrey?”

“Let me make sure, Mr. Malfoy,” she said, and ran a few diagnostic spells over his right arm. She nodded, satisfied. “Good as new!”

Draco smiled. “Thank you.”

He turned to Harry, who was gaping. “Shall we go, oh Desperate-To-Stay-Single-Scarhead?” he smirked. He strode towards the doors, but Harry caught his arm.

“Why were you in here? What happened?”

“It was nothing,” Draco said evasively.

Harry narrowed his eyes.  “Draco,” he said evenly. “Don’t lie to me. Yes, when Buckbeak scratched you, you behaved as though your arm would need to be amputated; so I should know you better than to believe you would downplay an injury. But if it was really nothing, then why would Madam Pomfrey have needed to make sure you were okay before she would let you leave?”

“Maybe I don’t want you fighting my battles for me,” Draco glared.

“I stick up for my friends – all of them. And everyone here knows you’re my friend,” Harry glared back. “Besides what would you do if it were me?”

Draco blinked, as though the thought had never occurred to him. He gave Harry an apologetic grin. “Smith tripped me when I was coming down the stairs for supper. I fell and broke my arm, so I got to dine in this lovely facility,” he made a sweeping gesture towards the hospital wing.

“The fucking bastard,” Harry fumed.

“Let me take my own revenge, alright?” Draco asked.

Harry nodded, grudgingly, but added, “I’m still gonna yell at him in front of everyone for hurting one of my friends.”

“You do that,” Draco said, looking amused. “Now, shall we go?” Harry nodded and they set out for the Eighth Year’s tower.

* * *

 

_December 27th, 2017_

“You’re leaving?” Harry’s eyes widened in panic.

Ginny raised an eyebrow. “Is that a problem?”

“But…” Harry’s voice trailed off.

“But what?”

“Malfoy’s bringing Scorpius over this afternoon. I was sort of counting on you to handle it. You know, like you handled the owls arranging it.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Harry. He’s just dropping off his son. Once he drops Scorpius off, he’ll leave and you won’t have to see him until he comes back to pick him up. You’re not going to be sitting around reminiscing and catching up on old times. It’s not going to kill you.”

Harry turned away, sulking. He didn’t know how to explain to Ginny just how desperate he was to avoid being alone with the other man – and why.

He didn’t want her to realise that he still wasn’t over Draco. Their relationship had enough problems without the added insult of that fact. Although he wondered, privately, if she already knew; or at least suspected.

Sometimes he wondered why they were still married. They certainly wouldn’t be, if it wasn’t for the kids. It wasn’t like they’d had sex in years, certainly.

Harry sighed, closing his eyes and wishing that he knew what to say. Wishing that there was some way to explain to Ginny why he was so afraid of being around Draco. He didn’t want to hurt her, if she was still in love with him. And if she wasn’t, and wouldn’t mind, he didn’t know how to explain to her that he _did_. He would never be anyone’s dirty little secret ever again.

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” Ginny said, voice quiet. “You know I wouldn’t leave now if it weren’t important. But this is the only time that works for Ilsa Vane to do the interview, and it’ll really be good for my career if I can get it.”

“I know, Gin,” Harry said, feeling guilty. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted like that.” He forced a smile. “Hopefully she’s more pleasant than her big sister.”

They shared a chuckle over the memory of Romilda’s desperate attempts at dosing Harry with love potion in his sixth year.

“Alright, well; I’ll get going now. See you tomorrow.” Ginny kissed him briefly, just a touch of lips, then called the kids in to say goodbye.

Harry watched them with a smile on his face. James, who was acting like he was too old to hug his mother goodbye and trying (unsuccessfully) to offer her a handshake instead; Al, who was less bothered by his mother leaving than he was that she would be missing out on Scorpius’ visit; and Lily, who behaved as though her mother had just declared that she was moving to the moon and wouldn’t be back for half a year.

And of course, Ginny herself, moving from child to child and handling them all with aplomb. James, by seizing his shoulders and pulling him into a hug despite his protests; Al, by placating him that she would be the one to drop him off at the Manor in the New Year when it was his turn to pay a visit to Scorpius; and Lily, by holding her close and promising both to return soon and to bring a souvenir back from Ireland.

Then she waved, seized her shrunken bag, and flooed away.

The kids wandered out of the room, while Harry stared into the fire, lost in his thoughts.

He’d realised after the first time he and Ginny had slept together that he’d really been naïve when describing himself as bisexual. He wasn’t bi. He was gay. While he was capable of having sex with a woman without the aid of potions, but he didn’t enjoy it the way he enjoyed sex with a man.

In fact, the highlight of their sex-life for him had been that time shortly after Lily was born, when Ginny had suggested using a strap-on. She’d used it on him, and he’d had the most intense orgasm he’d had throughout their entire relationship, during which he’d buried his face in his pillow to keep from crying out Draco’s name aloud. Afterwards he’d cried, and they’d never done it again.

Actually, that was when they stopped sleeping together. They still shared a bed, but they never had sex. Harry wasn’t sure if Ginny had lovers on the side or not. He hoped so, for her sake. She deserved to be made to feel desirable, and he simply couldn’t do that. No matter how hard he tried he loved her like a sister, not a lover, and it made it very difficult to sleep with her; especially since she lacked the right equipment to get him interested. He simply couldn’t acclimate himself to any of it.

He shouldn’t have trapped her into this marriage; he knew that now. He shouldn’t have put her into the position in the first place. But he was vulnerable and hurting; heartbroken from Draco’s betrayal. Ginny was there, and she’d always loved him. In one night of poor judgment, he’d tied her to him.

In hindsight, it was easy to see what a colossal mistake getting married to her had been, but at the time it had made sense. James needed parents who would be a family unit. He needed a mom and dad to raise him together; and wizarding societal mores dictated that illegitimate children were disgraceful. 

Harry wasn’t about to let his child be raised a social pariah. So he had done what he thought was best. And no matter how unhappy this marriage had made him, at least it had given him his children.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. He jumped. He got up and went to answer it.

 “Hello, Potter.” Draco and Scorpius stood at the door, waiting. Draco was smirking at him, and Scorpius was beaming. With a sigh, Harry bid them enter.

“Hello, Mr. Potter!” Scorpius exclaimed eagerly. “Is Al nearby?” He nearly vibrated in his intensity.

Harry couldn’t help smiling. “Yes, his room is up the stairs, third door on the left. Go on up.”

“Thank you, sir! Bye, dad!” Scorpius was off like a shot.

“Well, Malfoy, thank you for dropping him off. I’ll make sure he’s still in one piece when you pick him back up-“

“Aren’t you going to offer me tea?”

Harry gritted his teeth. “I hadn’t planned on it.”

“Why, Potter, I’m hurt!” Although the smirk on his face said otherwise. “May I please have a cup? It’s not exactly a short walk down past your wards, and it’s frightfully cold out there. Godric’s Hollow isn’t exactly known for its mild winters.”

A twinge of guilt nipped at Harry, because he’d refused to open his floo to the Malfoys, but he dismissed it and decided to make up for it by offering Draco some tea. He glanced at the other man, noticing how his reddened cheeks and nose were somehow all the more attractive with his pale skin and white-blond hair. His grey eyes were positively shining. Harry gritted his teeth. It should be a sin to look that good, he decided. He turned and stalked away.

“The kitchen’s this way, Malfoy.”

“The kitchen?”

“Unless you’d like to take your tea to go, you’ll drink it in the kitchen, where I’m comfortable.”

“Of course.” Draco sounded like he was smothering a laugh as he followed Harry.

* * *

 

“Al!”

Albus looked up, his face lighting up as he caught sight of his best friend. Scorpius’ cheeks were bright red, and even the tip of his nose was ruddy, evidence of his long walk in the cold. Scorp looked so cute when he was half-frozen. Al didn’t bother examining that thought; he was barely conscious of thinking it.

“You look like you’re freezing!” A flash of annoyance ran through Al – after all, his dad was being completely unreasonable with his refusal to open the floo for the Malfoys. “Let’s go down to the sitting room where you can sit by the fire and warm up. I’ll make you a cup of tea if you want, too.”

“Thanks.” Scorp was doing that thing where he ducked his head and blushed and glanced shyly at Al from the corner of his eyes, and it made Al grin. Merlin; he’d _missed_ his friend. He hadn’t realised how used to the other boy’s presence he’d gotten already, over the course of one term.

“Let’s go.” He grabbed Scorp’s hand and tugged him down back out of his room, down the stairs, and into the kitchen. He raised a brow when he saw Mr. Malfoy sitting at the table, watching as his dad banged around making tea. His dad had his back to them, and Mr. Malfoy hadn’t noticed them yet. He was too busy staring at Al’s dad.

The look on his face was so sad, so _longing_ that it made Al’s chest feel tight. He couldn’t understand what would make him look like that, though.

Scorp sneezed, behind him, and both of the men in the kitchen jumped. Mr. Malfoy immediately schooled his features into vague amusement, while Al’s dad turned to glance guiltily at the doorway.

“Scorpius; I’m so sorry – I hadn’t even thought of offering you tea! Would you like a cup?”

“Yes, please, Mr. Potter.”

“We’ll take ours in the sitting room, alright, Dad?” When his dad looked like he was about to object, he glared. “Because there’s a fire in there, and _someone_ made him walk all the way up from the lane _in a blizzard_!”

Mr. Malfoy snorted in amusement, and Al’s dad flushed. “It’s not a blizzard,” he muttered.

“So, since _someone_ is responsible for my best friend being half frozen, that same someone _won’t_ object to us drinking our tea by the fire. Right?”

“Right,” muttered Al’s dad, face burning with shame. Mr. Malfoy snorted again, and Al’s dad glared at him. Rather than being intimidated, this made him throw back his head with laughter.

Al’s dad huffed and threw a tea towel at him. Then he turned back to Al and Scorp.

“How do you take your tea, Scorpius?”

“Same as my father, sir.”

“Right. Well, I’ll give you his cup, and make him a new one. Al drinks his black, so he can have this one since I didn’t add anything to it yet.” He levitated the two cups over to the boys, who took them and the escape gratefully.

Al thought that his dad looked strange, but he shrugged it off in favour of pampering his best friend.

* * *

 

Harry found himself relaxing. He had been on edge when Draco had insisted on staying. But after their sons had come bumbling into the kitchen, he’d realised that there was no chance of Draco trying any kind of covert seduction with their offspring in the other room, and had relaxed. As conversation flowed between them, more and more easily, he found himself relaxing even more.

It had always been easy to relax with Draco. The other man had long possessed the knack for getting under his skin, in good ways and in bad. Similarly, he’d always known best how to put Harry at ease, when he put his mind to it.

So he was unprepared when he got up to bring their tea things over to the counter, for Draco’s voice to suddenly come from right beside his ear.

“You always did forget that this could easily be done with magic.”

He stiffened. Draco slid his arms around Harry’s waist, and Harry could feel the other man’s chuckle vibrating against his back.

“It’s one of the things I miss about you, you know. All your little quirks and idiosyncrasies; I miss every last one of them. I remember them constantly.”

Harry closed his eyes, fighting against the desire that uncoiled in his belly. “Let me go, Malfoy.” His voice didn’t come out as steady as he wanted it to, and he couldn’t seem to make his limbs co-operate and push Draco away.

“I don’t think you really want me to, Harry.” He could feel Draco’s lips against his ear, and he trembled.

“I think you miss it. Miss us. I think you miss how it feels to be held by a man; loved by one. I bet anything you miss being fucked by one. Do you ever think about that, Harry? How it felt to have me thrusting inside you?”

Harry whimpered, eyes fluttering shut. Images roared to the forefront of his mind, unbidden. A wave of lust enveloped him.

“I think that maybe I should remind you.”

Harry stifled a gasp. All thoughts of Ginny and the kids flew from his head; all he could think of was the man who held him in his arms, and how very desperate he was, how very long it had been since he’d felt Draco inside of him.

“Don’t worry, Harry. It can be our little secret.”

It was these words that saved him. These words, more than anything else; more than the memory of Ginny, the kids, or even the thought that Draco had undoubtedly slept with other men since their breakup, gave Harry the strength to pull away.

He shoved Draco back, folding his arms over his chest and glaring for all he was worth. “Fuck you, Malfoy.” Draco looked a mixture of aroused and surprised as he blinked at Harry, pupils blown.

“I was your dirty little secret for five years. I wouldn’t touch you now if you were the last man on earth. _Now get out of my house_!”

He turned and stalked away.

* * *

 

_October 31st, 1998_

Harry and Draco found themselves in the unusual position of having an entire evening free to spend together. While they spent every night together, they were only occasionally able to sneak away during the day to spend some time alone with each other. The time they could spend together during the day with others around was less than satisfying, as their groups of friends had spent seven years loathing each other and none seemed as eager to forgive and forget as Harry and Draco were.

While the Slytherins were self-serving enough not to want to offend the wizarding world’s current heroes now that their reputations had been blackened during the war, they also weren’t stupid enough to suck up to them; both because they knew it wouldn’t work, and because it would have severely damaged their pride. They simply pretended that none of the enmity of years past had ever existed, and were courteous and polite when forced to interact, and never attempted to interact with the Golden Trio or other Gryffindor war heroes on their own. The Gryffindors – particularly Ron – were considerably less well-behaved, and this kept Harry from attempting to force interaction between the two groups, in an effort to avoid humiliating and further alienating Draco’s friends.

Earlier on in the year, Harry had bemoaned the fact that the two of them would never get a chance to spend time together during the day, and said he wished they’d had a way of communicating that was like the DA Galleons. When Draco had asked what those were, Harry had explained, and Draco had gotten a speculative gleam in his eyes. He’d asked to examine Harry’s Galleon, and after casting a number of diagnostic spells on it, was able to use a similar charm on a pair of Galleons for himself and Harry that let the two of them send each other messages back and forth.

Now, during the day, they could discreetly send each other messages in order to meet up – if only for a few minutes of stolen kisses. Sometimes they would manage to sneak a whole afternoon together, with the aid of Harry’s invisibility cloak. While they frequently made use of their time together with blowjobs and frotting, they spent just as much time – if not more – simply talking. That was what they missed the most, they were finding, from their uninterrupted time together during the summer, was the opportunity to simply talk and enjoy one another’s company. They could enjoy sexual activities every night and talk some then, too; but they were unconscious for the bulk of the hours that they were together, and it was difficult for both of them.

The only activity they could enjoy together without having to hide was flying, and even that was limited by the availability of the pitch.  As the eighth years were allowed to play on house teams (As per their wager, Harry owed Draco a blowjob when they heard the news), they both practiced with their house teams and taunted one another good naturedly about the results of the Gryffindor-Slytherin Quidditch match in the new year.

However this evening was a rare treasure for them, in that it gave them hours to spend together before bed. By mutual assent, the first thing they did when they got back to their rooms was to cast their usual locking and silencing charms at the door, to get started by demonstrating how much they’d missed one another since they hadn’t spoken all day before meeting up in the hospital wing.

As soon as the door was locked, Draco seized Harry’s shoulders and attacked his mouth. Harry moaned, opening his mouth to Draco’s assault and twining his arms around his boyfriend’s neck. Draco walked him backwards to the bed and toppled the both of them over on it. They kissed frenziedly, sloppily, tearing at one another’s clothing in an eagerness to see each other naked during daylight hours without having to hide under an invisibility cloak.

Once their clothes had been shed, their bodies slid together with practiced ease, as their hands slid over shoulders, back, sides, arms, and arses. Draco cupped Harry’s face in his hands and kissed him slowly, deeply, and well. He slid his tongue through Harry’s lips as smoothly as a knife slides through butter, gliding over the roof of his mouth and wrapping it around Harry’s own.

Harry found himself whimpering helplessly into the kiss, clutching the sides of Draco’s arms like a drowning man clings to his scrap of driftwood, as though they were the only thing keeping him from being swept away in a sea of his own desire. Draco pulled back and gazed down at him with an expression that was so open, so unbearably tender, that he spoke his sudden epiphany aloud without thinking.

“I love you.”

Draco’s eyes widened, and Harry felt fear bubble up inside. He hadn’t meant to say it; he had simply been so caught off guard by the realisation that he was in love for the first time in his life. He was overwhelmed by the thought of all they had shared, both good and bad; and of everything that was _Draco_ , that it had blindsided him so completely that his defenses were down and he didn’t have a chance to make himself stop and think before speaking.

Now he didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t take it back, but he was afraid of how Draco would react. But Draco surprised him. His face split open into a heart-stopping smile, and he kissed Harry, even more passionately than he had before. He kissed him again, and again, until the two of them were both gasping for air. Draco closed his eyes and rested his forehead against Harry’s, whispering, “I love you, too, you silly Gryffindor.”

Harry had sucked in a deep breath, and closed his eyes against the sudden onslaught of emotion. He felt joy, elation, and something else. A part of himself that had somehow been holding back without his realisation fell away, and Harry knew what he wanted. He opened his eyes.

“Make love to me, Draco,” he asked softly. He felt a little foolish and girly phrasing it the way he did, but that was what he wanted; not just fucking, but an expression of the feelings that they both shared. Draco’s eyes flew open and he stared down at Harry in surprise. They’d never actually discussed this, though both of them knew it would come up sooner or later.

“What?” he asked weakly.

“Draco,” Harry’s mouth curved into a smile at the thought of leaving the Slytherin nearly speechless. “I want you to fuck me.”

Draco opened and closed his mouth again, then he swallowed, hard. “I’ve never…”

“Me neither,” Harry said quietly. “You’re the only person I’ve ever gone past kissing with.”

Draco blinked. “Really?”

Harry flushed. “I’ve been a little busy,” he defended himself.

Draco smiled, almost shyly. “Well, you’re the only person I’ve ever gone past kissing with, as well. So we’re even.”

Now it was Harry’s turn to be surprised. “But… I thought you were more experienced than I was! You always _acted_ like it!”

Draco looked a little sheepish. “That was all bravado. I… well, homosexuality is frowned on by purebloods, because it hinders the ability to produce an heir; and since I couldn’t have who I wanted, it didn’t seem worth it to take risks to be with some other boy. And I’m very definitely gay; it would take a potion for me to be with a girl.”

“Oh.” Harry tried not to look as disappointed at the thought of Draco wanting someone else, and focus on the positive, which was that Draco was in love with him now, and just as big a virgin as he was himself.

Draco huffed a laugh. “It was you, you pillock.”

“Huh?” Harry scrunched up his nose in adorable confusion.

“The one I wanted and couldn’t have. _You_. I used to hate you because you wouldn’t be my friend and I wanted you to be so badly; then I got older and realised that I _wanted_ you and I hated you even more. I couldn’t stop myself from doing whatever it took to get your attention, even if it was negative, and I hated you all the more for making me lose control. Then you saved me, and we became friends; and as I got to know you better I went from simply wanting you, to falling hopelessly in love with you.”

Harry was speechless. He swallowed hard. “You… you fancied me? All along?”

Draco leaned down and captured his lips again, interspersing his kisses with words. “So.” Kiss. “Much.” Kiss. “For.” Kiss. “So.” Kiss. “Bloody.” Kiss. “Long.” He pulled back and stared into Harry’s eyes. “So much that sometimes it hurt to breathe. So much that sometimes I could have cried from it. Sometimes I did. I was so very afraid that it would never go away. Now I’m glad it never did.”

Harry smiled, and rolled his hips upwards, making Draco gasp. “I want you, Draco. I… I’m not entirely sure of all the mechanics, but I know that I want you. So much that I can barely stand it. Do you know what to do?”

Draco nodded, biting his lip. “I looked it up, after we started… well.” He flushed. “I thought… hoped… that we might need to know someday. Though I always thought that you would want me to bottom. Do you…”

“I… I want you inside me,” Harry said softly, not daring to meet Draco’s eyes. He flushed himself, and tried to explain in a way that didn’t make him sound too girly. “I just feel like… I want you to fill me. Complete me. I just… I need to feel you in me.” He flushed even darker and he couldn’t meet Draco’s eyes. “I’ve been responsible for so much for so long; I just want to let someone else be in control for a while. And I want that someone else to be you. I trust you to take care of me.”

Draco took his chin in his hands and lifted it, forcing Harry to meet his gaze. It was so soft, so tender and open, that it made Harry’s heart ache. There was awe in it, too; and that surprised Harry a little. Draco kissed him gently. “Thank you,” he whispered. “For trusting me… loving me… I…” He swallowed thickly, looking at Harry with a hungry kind of desperation.

Harry pulled him back down into a kiss, and thrust his hips up. Draco gasped into his mouth, not having anticipated the move. He pulled back, and Harry whimpered at the loss of contact.

“Shh,” Draco said, his eyes lighting up with happiness. He moved his mouth to the side of Harry’s neck, nipping and sucking at Harry’s pulse point. He made his way down, across Harry’s collarbone, to his nipples, biting and sucking and leaving red marks in his wake. Harry was twisting, gasping below him, letting out delicious little mewling sounds.

Draco traced his tongue down to Harry’s nipples, teasing, nipping; flicking them with the tip of his tongue, then seizing them with his lips and biting down gently. He worked over Harry’s left side first, before moving to the right. Harry gasped and moaned, and twisted in his sheets, and Draco chuckled before making his way further south.

He dipped his tongue in Harry’s navel, then continued his way down; nipping, licking, and kissing. He moved around Harry’s cock, laving attention on the inside of first one thigh, then the other. He pushed at Harry’s legs, and Harry spread them for him, eagerly. He licked a swift stripe along Harry’s cock, causing the smaller boy to buck his hips and let out a strangled cry. He sat up, chuckling.

“Turn over, love,” he said, with eyes like warm mercury.

Harry hesitated. “Draco… I… can we do this face to face? I really want to see you.”

Draco bit his lip. “It hurts the first time, though. It’ll be easier for you if we do this the other way.”

Harry hesitated. “I know what I want,” he said, softly. “And I want to see your face when I lose my virginity.” Red bloomed over his face, down his neck and spreading over his chest. He felt that if he blushed any harder his head might explode. Draco smiled at him.

“Alright,” he said. The he bit his lip again, looking somewhat nervous. “But you have to tell me if it’s too much for you. More than anything, Harry, I want this to be good for you.” The earnestness with which he said this made Harry melt a little.

“It will be, Draco. It’s with you, isn’t it?”

Draco lunged forward and kissed him again, hard. After a few moments he pulled back, leaning his head against Harry’s forehead and breathing hard. He opened his eyes and smirked wickedly. “Come on, then,” he said playfully. He sat up and smacked Harry’s thigh lightly. “Turn over. I want to try something.”

Since the last time Draco had said he wanted to “try something” had resulted in Harry’s first ever blow-job, he was understandably eager to comply with whatever Draco had planned. He rolled over. Draco lifted his hips, pulling a pillow under them and spreading Harry’s knees apart. Harry buried his head in the sheets, face flaming. He felt completely exposed and vulnerable. He trusted Draco, though, so his embarrassment was tempered with excitement.

He waited as Draco fumbled behind him, then gasped as the unexpected sensation of a cleaning charm swept over a part of him he’d never expected to feel it. He shivered from the unexpected and not-entirely-unpleasant sensation.

Draco kissed the curve of the small of his back, before spreading his arse cheeks wide. Suddenly he licked a stripe down Harry’s crack. Harry let out a surprised shout, both at the action and the unexpected sensation. He could feel the flat of Draco’s tongue moving over his hole and couldn’t hold back a whimper. He felt Draco’s smile as the blond began to lick him in earnest.

Harry shuddered under the sensation, gasping and moaning in abandon as Draco’s tongue proceeded to circle his hole, then sweep over it in a repeating pattern. It felt brilliant. Then Draco speared his tongue and stabbed it inside Harry’s opening, and he cried out in shock and pleasure. He began writhing, whimpering and sobbing as he pushed back against his boyfriend, who was eagerly tongue-fucking him into the mattress. A high-pitched whine was building in the back of Harry’s throat, and he found himself begging incoherently for more.

“Please, Draco; please! Need more; need _you_! Please; please, _please!_ ”

Draco gave his hole one last lick, then turned Harry over onto his back. Harry pulled him down into an enthusiastic snog.

“I need you,” he whispered as their lips parted. “Now. Please?”

Draco nodded shakily. “You’re not quite ready yet, love. But don’t worry; you’re getting there.”

Harry let out a frustrated groan, and Draco smirked. “You have no idea how hot you were like that. No idea.” He whispered a lubrication spell, and moved one slick finger to Harry’s loosened entrance. He teased it for a moment with a fingertip, but Harry let out a whine and thrust his hips forward, trying to bring it into himself.

Draco snickered. “Settle down, love,” he reprimanded. Then he slowly slid the fingertip inside. Harry grimaced. It was an odd feeling, having a finger stuck in there. It didn’t hurt; not with the lube, the rimjob he’d just gotten, and Draco’s slow and careful movements. It just felt strange, and rather full. But it wasn’t a bad sensation. Just a different one. After a moment, his body adjusted to the intrusion and he found it was actually quite pleasurable as Draco moved it in and out.

After a few moments, he began impatiently pushing back. “More, Draco; come on, give me more!”

Draco laughed. He slowly, gently slid a second finger inside, and while it felt a little more uncomfortable than the first had, after a few moments the stretching sensation had died down into pleasure as well. Draco began scissoring his fingers, crooking them this way and that, until suddenly he rubbed something inside Harry that made his eyes roll back in his head as he arched his back and nearly screamed.

“Found it!” Draco’s voice was smug and triumphant. “Like that, did you?”

“What the hell was that?” gasped Harry.

“That,” Draco crooked his fingers again and Harry let out a wail as he writhed, “Is your prostate.”

“Oh, Merlin,” Harry moaned. “Please Draco; I need you!”

Draco closed his eyes and swallowed. When he opened them again and spoke, his voice shook a little. “Harry, trust me when I say that you don’t want me to rush this, okay?”

Before Harry could argue, he slid a third finger inside carefully. Harry winced. It burned, a little. It wasn’t too bad, but it was definitely more than a little uncomfortable, and even slightly painful. But after a few moments of Draco’s slow, gentle movements, the burn faded and it became pleasurable again; all the more so when Draco stimulated his prostate as he went.

Harry found himself pushing back again, and demanding “More!” yet again. Draco pulled his fingers out and whispered the lubrication spell again. He straightened, pulling Harry’s legs up over his shoulders. He looked up at Harry. He appeared nervous, yet determined. Harry felt himself tense slightly as he realised that Draco had finished preparing him.

“You need to relax, love. Just trust me, alright?” Draco’s voice soothed any nerves Harry may have been feeling, and he smiled.

“I do. I love you.” Draco leaned down to kiss him as he pressed inside. Harry gasped and screwed his eyes shut. Draco hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d said it would hurt. Even with all the preparation, it hurt. But it wasn’t unbearable, so it seemed that Draco had known what he was doing. What’s more, Draco stopped as soon as he felt Harry tense. He kissed along Harry’s jaw, murmuring soothingly.

“Shhh, relax, love. Relax. Trust me.”

Harry did relax, and Draco moved again, pressing deeper. It hurt, quite a bit more than Harry had been anticipating, but he realised now that Draco had taken so long to prepare him to minimize that pain, and it left him feeling deeply grateful to have a lover that cared for him so much. He forced himself to relax, willing his body to accept the intrusion, as Draco moved slowly until he was fully sheathed. Harry opened his eyes, and watched as Draco stilled, breathing heavily, his own eyes clenched shut. He was making little gasping sounds, and it occurred to Harry that it must be taking quite a bit of effort for Draco not to move. After a moment, Harry’s body had more or less accepted the intrusion, and he began to feel uncomfortable – like he _needed_ Draco to move.

“Draco,” he said softly. “It’s okay. You can move now.”

Draco opened his eyes and glanced down at Harry in surprise. “You’re alright?”

“Yeah,” Harry smiled up at him. “But I think I need you to move now.”

Draco’s own lips curved upwards. “I can do that.” He pulled out slowly, then thrust back in. His movements were slow and gentle as he gave Harry’s body time to adjust to everything. He kept shifting his hips, and suddenly on one thrust he hit that spot inside Harry – his prostate, Draco had called it – and Harry cried out and bucked his hips wildly. “Oh, _fuck!_ ” he shrieked. “Fuck; Draco, fuck!”

Draco was smirking in earnest as he began to move faster, angling his hips to hit Harry’s prostate more often than not. “Touch yourself!” he commanded, and Harry obeyed; tugging on his cock and chanted Draco’s name desperately.

“Oh Merlin; Draco, Draco, Draco! Fuck! Merlin! _Draco_!”

He was sobbing Draco’s name desperately, and with one last desperate cry of, “Draco!” he threw back his head and came. He came hard, long streams of spunk shooting out from his cock in thick white ropes.

Draco cried out and slammed his hips back into Harry erratically, and Harry felt him come as well. The sensation of having Draco come _inside_ him was beyond anything he’d ever experienced before. He sobbed and chanted him boyfriend’s name over and over brokenly as Draco rode out the waves of his orgasm. He’d never felt so complete, so whole.

Draco finished and collapsed against him, shaking. Harry wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, noting absently that they seemed to be shaking as well. The room was silent except for the sound of their breath, which came in sharp pants and harsh gasps.

After a few moments, Draco shifted into a more comfortable position. He lifted his head long enough to give Harry one last long, slow kiss. Then he dropped his forehead to Harry’s and murmured, “I love you,” again before tucking into Harry’s side with a yawn.

Harry couldn’t control the enormous grin that broke over his face at that. “I love you, too,” he whispered back. He closed his eyes and let himself drift, enjoying the intimacy and closeness he felt with the other boy.

He was perfectly happy. He felt such peace and contentment, nothing could have spoiled it

_I must say, it’s nice to see you happy, young one._

Harry sat up with a gasp and a startled jolt, ignoring Draco’s exclamations of indignation in favour of glancing around wildly for the old woman who had spoken.

_Don’t be alarmed; I’ve simply decided that it was high time I spoke to you._

“Who’s there?” His voice was weak and shaky, desperately hoping that the voice would turn out to belong to an old woman with grey hair and twinkling blue eyes – there was something in the voice that reminded Harry of Dumbledore, despite it being female.

“Harry? Love, are you alright?” Draco was looking at him worriedly.

“Can’t you… can’t you hear it?” Harry asked desperately.

“Hear what?”

“That… voice.”

_You’re the only one I’m speaking to. You’re the first I’ve found worthy of speaking to since the days of Rowana, Helga, Godric, and Salazar._

“Harry… there is no voice.” The concern in Draco’s voice now was palpable. Harry’s breathing became laboured, as visions of second year and the Chamber of Secrets danced in his head.

“Who are you?” he whispered brokenly, hiding his head in his hands.

_I’m Hogwarts, of course._


	5. Founders' Heir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lady Hogwarts reveals herself; Rose and Al are invited to a slumber party.

**Chapter Four:** Founders' Heir

 **Disclaimer:** I neither own, nor claim to own Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy... except for within the darkest recesses of my mind. 

 **Warnings:** Sex, panic attacks.

 **A/N:** Sorry this took so long. But it's the longest chapter yet; and I had to rewrite a portion of it when my laptop crashed on me without saving the whole thing. 

* * *

_It feels like the dawn of the dead_   
_Like bombs goin' off in my head_   
_Never a moment of rest_   
  
_Nothing kills more than to know_   
_That this is the end of the road_   
_And I know I gotta let go_   
  
_But it's not that easy for me to say goodbye_   
_And everything in me, wants you back in my life_   
  
_Can't let you go_

_Adam Lambert – Can’t Let You Go_

* * *

 

_October 31st, 1998_

It had been a day of surprises for Draco. Some; like forgetting his Transfiguration homework and having to double back to retrieve it, or like being caught off guard by that idiot Smith while he was distracted by his eagerness to avoid being late to class after doing so, were unpleasant. But the others had more than made up for them.

First, there was the unexpected and novel pleasure of having Harry all to himself for an entire evening; complete with orders from Madam Pomfrey for the two of them to stay in their room for the night.

Next had been hearing the boy he was desperately in love with confess his own love. Before Draco’s mind could stop reeling from that turn of events, Harry had asked him to consummate their relationship. Not only that, but what shocked Draco even more was that Harry had asked him to top.

While between the two of them he was the more knowledgeable one; that was purely through research. And because of how incredibly powerful and well-respected Harry was in the wizarding world, Draco had simply expected that he would want to dominate in the bedroom as well. Harry’s willing – even eager – submission left him in a state of dumb amazement.

Secretly, he was both grateful and relieved. He had had so little control over his life, and so few choices that weren’t made for him, that he felt uneasy giving up control to anyone – even Harry. While if there was anyone he wouldn’t mind submitting to, it would be Harry; the ability to be the one in control of something as intimate as their lovemaking felt like a rare and precious gift.

He knew Harry well enough to know that his submission in the bedroom wouldn’t carry over into any other part of their lives – and he wouldn’t have wanted it to. The competitiveness between them was part of why he loved being with Harry so much.

The sex had been incredible. It was the hottest and most mind-blowing experience of Draco’s life. He now wondered how he had ever lived without it; without Harry in his arms and his bed every night. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he never wanted to again. He had been so afraid of doing something wrong; of hurting Harry or somehow being inadequate as a lover. But Harry’s reactions had surpassed his imagination, and left him feeling rather smug about his sexual prowess – not to mention thrilled to have such a responsive and enthusiastic partner.

But as he lay cuddled up with Harry, still dazed in the afterglow, he had yet another surprise – one that shattered the cloud of euphoria he had been experiencing.

“Who’s there?” Harry sat bolt upright in bed, glancing around wildly. His frightened voice broke into Draco’s reverie.

“Harry? Love, are you alright?” After glancing at the door, Draco turned back to his lover, a worried frown creasing his brow. 

“Can’t you… can’t you hear it?” Harry’s voice was desperate, needy. His eyes were wild, shot with fear. Draco felt his gut clench in reaction to it, and he struggled to stay calm. 

“Hear what?”He kept his voice soothing, controlled.

“That… voice.”

“Harry… there is no voice.” Despite his best efforts, the concern and fear he felt were bleeding into his tone, and he doubted he was any more successful at keeping the emotions off of his face. By the absolute terror that filled Harry’s features, that assumption was probably correct. Harry drew his knees up to his chest and buried his head in his arms.

“Who are you?” he whispered. His voice was hoarse and sounded like he was fighting back tears. He flinched visibly and let out a whimper.

“This isn’t real,” he whispered. “It’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not real...” He began rocking, head still buried in his arms, mumbling over and over to himself.

Draco felt like he was going to be sick. He reached for Harry; tried to pull him into his arms, and the shorter boy cried out and struggled.

“Shhh, Harry; it’s me. It’s Draco. It’s alright. You’re safe. I’m here; I’ve got you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Harry stopped struggling; he turned his head into Draco’s chest and whimpered. He slid his arms around the blond’s neck and clung so tightly it was difficult for Draco to breathe. Draco clutched him back just as tightly. He pulled Harry close, bringing him as close as he could possibly get him.

Helpless, he murmured words of comfort while stroking Harry’s hair. The brunet let out a sob, his grip tightening further.

“ _Stop!_ Oh, Merlin; _please!_ _Please_ , stop! Go away!”

For a second Draco froze, thinking Harry was talking to him. Then he realised that Harry must be talking to the “voice” he had mentioned. He started stroking Harry’s hair again, but his mind was in turmoil, realising that he needed to get Harry to Madam Pomfrey immediately.

He couldn’t cast a Patronus yet – while Harry had been teaching him during the summer, he hadn’t quite mastered it before the term started and they hadn’t had an opportunity to continue the lessons. He had no other way of getting a message to Madam Pomfrey; other than to either leave Harry and head into the common room without him to see if there was anyone else around he could ask to fetch the mediwitch, or to somehow bring Harry out with him. He knew that the brunet would hate being seen falling apart, and in either case, he wasn’t sure how to separate the two of them long enough to dress.

He closed his eyes and swallowed, willing the panic down. He cleared his throat and spoke in a calm, even voice.

“Harry? Love? Will you let me help you?”

Harry was hyperventilating, so Draco grabbed his chin and tilted it up, looking firmly in the other boy’s eyes. They were wild and frightened, darting back and forth frantically. “Look at me, Harry,” he said.

Harry met his gaze. “Harry, you need to take some nice, deep, slow breaths. Alright?”

Harry gave a barely perceptible nod, still looking somewhat frenzied.

“Good. Breathe with me, alright, Harry?”

He guided Harry through a few calming breaths, speaking softly and encouragingly to help stave off Harry’s panic. Harry’s eyes were fixed on his as though they were a life-line.

When he seemed calmer, Draco tried again. “Harry, will you let me help you?”

“Yes. Please.” Harry’s eyes were tearing up. “Can you make it go away?” His voice was so fragile; so vulnerable and childlike that Draco’s heart broke.

“I think Madam Pomfrey can. Will you let me dress you so that we can get her to help you?”

Harry nodded hesitantly. “Alright.”

“Good. Thank you, Harry.” Draco’s relief was palpable. He helped Harry dress, and threw on his own clothing rather haphazardly. Glancing down at himself he let out a sigh, realising that going out in their current state would be as good as announcing to everyone in Hogwarts what they’d been up to.

While at this point that seemed rather unimportant, Harry was under enough stress as it was; and the last thing he needed was to have the whole school – not to mention the wizarding world at large – in an uproar over their relationship. Adding to that mess would be that their friends and Draco’s parents would be trying to break them up – the whole wizarding world would probably be in one accord on that note – Draco felt that letting the cat out of the bag at this point would be one of the worst possible courses of action.

He straightened Harry’s clothes and attempted to tame his hair, before abandoning his efforts with the justification that no one would notice the difference, anyway. Harry moved mechanically, in a state of numb shock. Occasionally he closed his eyes and shuddered, shaking his head.

Draco helped Harry sit back down on the bed again and neatened himself out as best he could. Once they looked more presentable and less just-shagged, he helped Harry back up and dismantled the wards on their room, before leading them out.

Walking seemed to revive Harry a little. He straightened up a bit, and shook his head as if to clear it. “Draco? Where are we going?”

“To see Madam Pomfrey. Don’t you remember?” The blond tried to hide his anxiety.

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry, it’s just... It was hard to think straight when she was talking.”

 _She?_ Draco forced a smile. “Madam Pomfrey can help you. Don’t worry, Harry.”

Harry gave him a watery smile back. “I hope so. I’m sorry for falling apart. I just... I felt so scared. I don’t know why.” He scoffed. “I’m supposed to be brave, and there I was having a breakdown like a baby.”

Draco stopped their momentum at the top of the stairs that led to the common room. “ _Harry James Potter!_ ” he said, glaring. “Don’t you _dare_ blame yourself for reacting the way anyone else would to something that traumatic!”

Harry’s eyes widened, before he let out a small chuckle. His features relaxed a little more, and his eyes softened. “Alright, _Hermione_.” He stuck out his tongue while Draco opened and closed his mouth in shock.

Harry resumed walking down the stairs, on his own power now. He seemed to have recovered from whatever had happened in their room, but Draco was relieved that he still seemed willing to go to the hospital wing. He took Harry’s elbow, guiding him down; concerned that Harry might need his help again.

“Harry?”

Harry stiffened, coming to an abrupt halt. “’Lo, ‘Mione.”

Draco stiffened as well, and shot Granger a glare. She was standing at the base of the stairs with her hands on her hips, and the Weasel stood behind her with his mouth open.

“What’s going on, Harry? We went to the infirmary, but Madam Pomfrey said that she’d given you a Headache Potion and you’d gone to bed. Why are you with Malfoy?”

Weasel was glaring at Draco, but he reserved his icy stare for Granger. She ignored him.

“Draco is my friend, Hermione. And my roommate. He was in the infirmary when I got there, and we left together. We were both told to take it easy, so we went up to lie down and talk. After all, we hardly see each other outside of a simple, “Goodnight Draco”, and “Sleep well, Harry”.” Harry was glaring at her too, and Draco heartily approved. “Right now he’s helping me to the infirmary, since I’ve gotten worse.”

Granger huffed and crossed her arms. “Well, we can take you now, Harry.” She shot Draco a withering stare. “You’ll be fine with us.”

“Yeah, mate.” The Weasel seemed to have regained the power of speech. “We’ll go with you.”

“ _No_ , Hermione, Ron. Draco’s taking me. Frankly, I’ve spent all the time in your company today that I can handle.”

Draco nearly reeled in shock. The other two members of the Golden Trio didn’t seem to be faring any better.

“ _Harry_ …” Granger sounded wounded.

“ _No_. Shut up. Because of you two I’ve had to constantly see Madam Pomfrey for Headache Potions and spend all my time around random people that annoy me. Neither of you are willing to listen to me or care about what I want. So no, Hermione. Draco’s been a far better friend to me lately than either of you two.”

“What the hell, mate?” Weasel sounded furious. “How can you talk to us like that, Harry? _Us_?”

Harry laughed bitterly. “Because neither of you has been acting like a friend to me for a while now. So I don’t want to be around you guys until you’re ready to act like you care.”

Weasel’s face turned as red as his hair. He opened his mouth, but Granger stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Harry,” she said. “You know we only want what’s best for you.”

Harry looked like he was about to reply, when he suddenly lurched forward – giving Draco cause to be grateful he was holding onto Harry’s arm – and clutched his head, whimpering. Draco was furious at the wasted time, and once he steadied Harry, he turned his attention to the two at the bottom of the stairs.

“You two should be grateful that Harry’s such a good person,” he snapped. “Any other sane person would have ditched the two of you by now. But he cares about the two of you too much to do that, even though you’ve been making him sick for weeks! He needs to go to Madam Pomfrey _right now!_ So shut up and let us go!”

They both looked concerned now, mainly due to the fact that Harry was once again cuddling into Draco’s chest, whimpering. As he spoke, Draco had wrapped his arms around Harry, and once he finished his speech he began trying to calm Harry, who was moaning and gasping, still clutching his head.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“I don’t know.” Draco’s voice was grim. “But he’s been getting headaches ever since you two started your asinine dating program – which, I might add, he’d been very vocal about despising – and they’ve been getting steadily worse. I’m taking him to Madam Pomfrey, and if you really _are_ the brightest witch of our age, Granger; you’ll stay here and try to think of a way to support your friend that doesn’t involve micromanaging his life against his will!”

He began guiding Harry down the steps, which was a slow and daunting process. Harry mumbled incoherently and whimpered the whole way, burying his head in Draco’s chest and constantly forcing Draco to stop in order to avoid sending the two of them tumbling.

“Here.” His head jerked up at the sound of Granger’s voice so close. Her face was pinched, sad.

_Good. She deserves it after the way she’s been treating Harry._

“Let me help; at least on the stairs. I won’t go into the infirmary, if that’s what he wants. Just let me help him get past the stairs safely.”

Draco met her eyes, and saw the honest concern of a friend, mixed with guilt and regret. He gave a terse nod and she took Harry’s other arm.

Together, they made their way down to the Hospital Wing.

* * *

 

_May 14th, 2018_

_Mrs. Potter,_

_Scorpius’ 12th birthday is next month. He’s determined to have your son, Albus, in attendance at his party. As you were the one to bring him to the Manor after the New Year and the only one I’ve been in contact with regarding arrangements for the boys to spend time together, you and Albus are invited._

_While Scorpius would be content with a smaller party with only his close friends invited, my parents are determined to do for him as they did for me when I was younger, and make an event of it. Since there will be many children there of varying ages, I’d like to extend the invitation to all three of yours._

_Their cousins have also been invited; though whether or not your brothers will allow them to attend is another matter entirely. Parents are invited as well. In fact, it is rather encouraged that at least one parent be present. Your husband may hide at home if he likes, provided that you are there._

_It will be held on the 23rd of June, at eleven in the morning. I have arranged a variety of entertainment for the day as well as meals – we’ll be having luncheon at one, and dinner will be served at six._

_While most of the guests will be leaving around eight, there are a select few – specifically, your son and Miss Rose Weasley – who have been invited to stay overnight. You and your brother may spend the night here as well, should you wish to chaperone – if necessary, your other children may as well._

_Please let me know as soon as possible if this is feasible._

_Regards,_

_Draco Malfoy_

* * *

 

_Mrs. Granger-Weasley,_

_I am addressing this missive to yourself, as I believe that you are more level-headed and less prejudiced than your husband. As you are doubtless aware, my son and your daughter have struck up a friendship. His birthday is next month, and he would be crushed if your daughter did not attend his party._

_My parents will be making a much larger affair of it than either Scorpius or myself would like, so there will be adults and children of all ages in attendance. Please feel free to bring your entire family – and to let me know which of your husband’s family I should also invite to make this event more palatable for you both._

_Scorpius will, of course, let me know who he would prefer to have attend; but since there will be plenty of other children there other than his close friends, I hope to make the occasion more enjoyable for you and yours by inviting guests you would enjoy interacting with, other than simply those that my father and mother have chosen._

_It will be a day-long affair, held on the first Saturday after his birthday – the 23rd of June – beginning at eleven and ending at eight, with meals and entertainment provided throughout. Your children and yourselves are invited to spend the night. Rather, Rose is invited to stay the night, and you or your husband are welcome to chaperone if you prefer – but your entire family is also welcome if that is more convenient. Albus and his family have also been issued the same invitation, as he and your daughter are Scorpius’ best friends._

_If I could, I would give the elves the time off for the party and hire human catering out of respect for you; but they are my father’s and he would not stand for it. I apologise in advance for this, Granger; as I have no doubt that the rights of elves are as important to you now as they were when we were younger._

_I understand if you have reservations about coming to the Manor after your experience here during the war. I would feel the same. Please let me assure you that you will find the Manor has been greatly altered since then. During Father’s brief stint in Azkaban, the Aurors cleansed the Manor of Dark Magic._

_You may remember that I stayed at Hogwarts to help with the repairs, and my mother stayed with her sister to help with young Theodore Lupin and to rebuild their relationship. If you had forgotten that, you doubtless remember how Potter had graciously opened Grimmauld Place to me after the end of the school year, while we waited for the Manor to be declared safe by the Ministry._

_Once we were free to return home, Mother and I renovated heavily. While the taint of Dark Magic had been purged, we still felt the Dark Lord’s presence everywhere. The only way we could rid ourselves of it was to remove everything that reminded us of him. You will not recognise anything that could possibly cause any traumatic memories to surface. I assure you I would not be so callous as to invite you here otherwise._

_Please owl me at your earliest convenience with your response._

_I would deeply appreciate it if you could come – all of you. It would mean the world to Scorpius._

_Regards,_

_Draco Malfoy_

* * *

 

_October 31st, 1998_

Harry floated into consciousness gradually. He could hear voices; though he could not make out what they were saying. He recognised Draco’s, and Madam Pomfrey’s… he wasn’t sure who else. He tried to open his eyes but the light blinded him, and he groaned.

The voices stopped. Footsteps sounded instead, growing closer.

“Mr. Potter?”

_Ah. Headmistress McGonagall._

_“_ Wha-what?” he coughed, his throat dry. He forced his eyes open; they were crusty and stung. “Water,” he rasped. He struggled to sit up.

Madam Pomfrey conjured him a glass and filled it with an Aguamenti. She held it to his lips and he drained it.

“Thank you.” He felt deeply uncomfortable. He couldn’t understand why he was here, or what had happened.

“How are you?”

He turned to Draco, who looked pale and frightened. Draco seized his hand, cradling it to his chest as though it was something precious. Harry forced himself to smile, despite his own unease. Since he was looking at Draco, it wasn’t very hard.

“Alright; just a little confused. What happened?”

“What do you remember, Mr. Potter?”

“Uhm.” He blinked, trying to orient himself. He lay back, closing his eyes while he tried to untangle the jumble of thoughts in his head.

Draco. Draco touching him, kissing him. Tasting his skin, tasting him there. Opening him; stretching him. Inside him. Moving, with a look of wonder on his face; of pleasure and fierce concentration.

Harry flushed. The images that flew through his mind were wonderful and arousing. He opened his eyes and sat up, knowing that if he lay there while he remembered his arousal would soon become obvious.

Draco had told him he loved him. Harry couldn’t help smiling. They’d lost their virginity together. It was the most beautiful thing that had ever happened to him. Then his smile faded as he remembered what had happened after. He closed his eyes again, feeling humiliated as he remembered how badly he’d reacted.

Granted, he’d had reasonable cause to act the way he had. _Hearing voices is bad, even in the wizarding world._ He swallowed. He had been only vaguely aware of the journey to the Hospital Wing, where Hermione had reluctantly left him with Draco. He’d been only vaguely aware of Madam Pomfrey trying to calm him, before casting a spell that sent him into blissful oblivion.

“I was hearing a voice.” He said it quietly, as though speaking too loud would somehow make it worse. “She kept talking to me. Telling me to calm down; that nothing was wrong.” He barked out a laugh. “She told me I wasn’t crazy; that she was real. She just wouldn’t go away.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I was just so scared.” The hand Draco was holding clutched him tightly. He looked up, at the three of them, looking at him with such sadness, that his vision blurred.

He blinked quickly before offering them a watery smile.

“I’m going to have to do some tests, Mr. Potter.” Madam Pomfrey’s voice was soft. “Depending on the results, I may need to contact an expert at St. Mungo’s.”

Harry tried to smile again, and nodded. “Okay.” He hated how small his voice sounded.

_Are you calm now, little one? I didn’t mean to upset you so much._

Harry gasped and drew his knees up to his chest, ducking his head and wrapping his arms around it protectively. “Shut up!” he screamed. “Shut up, shut up, _shut up!!!_ ”

He could feel his whole body trembling. He heard himself sob.

_Please, little one. If I thought it wouldn’t do more harm than good to leave you be now, I would do so. You must believe that I never intended to hurt you in any way._

_Dimly, he registered Draco climbing onto the bed beside him and wrapping his arms around him. He twisted and clung to his lover, burying his face in Draco’s shoulder. “What do you want from me?” he cried._

_I simply want to know you, as I once knew Helga, Godric, Rowena, and Salazar. Once I realised I had the ability to communicate with you, I observed you for a while. I found that I quite liked you, and thought it would be beneficial to us both for me to introduce myself. I wouldn’t have approached you if I’d known how you would react. But now that I have, I can prevent you from thinking you’re mad by proving that I am who I say I am._

Harry stiffened. “How?” he whispered.

_By showing you secrets about this castle that have been hidden since the days of the Founders. If I can do that, will you believe me?_

Harry drew in a deep breath. He could hear Draco, Madam Pomfrey, and Headmistress McGonagall talking to him, but he ignored them in favour of trying to decide what to answer.

“Okay. Show me, and I’ll believe you.”

_You should tell your friends what I’ve told you. Tell them, and then walk over to the portrait of a landscape in the mediwitch’s office. I’ll let you know what to do once you’re there. Oh! And you’ll need your wand._

Harry shook his head, blinking as he came out of his daze. He forced a smile. “I’m okay now.” He noticed that all three of the infirmary’s other occupants looked relieved. They also looked so sad and fearful that it made his heart ache.

“Madam Pomfrey, do you have a portrait of a landscape in your office?”

She looked somewhat confused. “Yes; there’s one attached to the wall with a permanent sticking charm. How did you know?”

Harry looked down, picking at the blanket lint. “The voice I keep hearing… she says she’s Hogwarts. She said that she can prove I’m not crazy; but I need to go up to the portrait in your office. She also said that I’ll need my wand.”

He looked up, and saw the looks of apprehension on the faces of the three who were with him. He continued, “She said that since I’m the first person since the Founders to invest so much of my own magic into the fabric of her being, I’ve become sort of a fifth Founder, and it’s made her able to communicate with me.”

He looked away. “I know that it’s crazy. I’m crazy. But…” He swallowed. “I have to try. Please.”

He looked back up in time to see McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey exchange a look. McGonagall nodded, and Madam Pomfrey turned her gaze back on to him. She smiled sadly at him.

“Very well, Mr. Potter. But we’ll need to go with you.”

“Yes, of course.” He glanced at his boyfriend. “Draco, too.” Draco’s arms tightened around him.

“Certainly.”

They made their way to Madam Pomfrey’s office. As soon as they entered it, Harry noticed the large landscape behind the desk. It was lovely. It was also enormous. He walked up to it and stopped, standing in front of it. “I think I need my wand, now.”

Madam Pomfrey handed it to him with a look of trepidation on her face. He nodded his thanks and turned back to face the portrait.

“What now?”

_Touch your wand to the center of the portrait. Without lifting it from the canvas, draw it upwards until it touches the inside of the frame. Draw two crosses on the canvas; north to south, east to west, then south to north, west to east. Say the incantation, “Et Adiecit Dominus Ad Thesauros Collocata” four times, once on each pass. When you’re done, trace your wand back to the center of the from and say, “Qui Egredietur De Ingressu Quatuor Postulat.”_

Harry moved as though he was in a dream. He was aware of his body; he could feel it, control it, but was also somewhat detached from it. He wondered if his blind panic before had led to his condition being exacerbated. Though the panic had been understandable; hearing voices out of nowhere and feeling almost as though he were experiencing a form of astral projection would be enough to make anyone panic.

He was aware of himself following her instructions. Moving his wand slowly, enunciating each syllable of the incantation carefully. As he spoke the final words, the image inside the portrait began to waver; rippling like water. The colours swirled and muddied. They began to smooth out, but the image inside was different.

It was a large room; similar to a common room, but decorated in neutral colours. There were four spiral staircases leading away in different directions on the far end of the room. Harry heard the exclamations of surprise from behind him, but his attention was riveted on the voice in his head.

_This is the Founders’ common room._

There was a shout, and suddenly a man bounded down one of the stairs and leaped forward towards Harry, his face eager and his eyes bright. He had tousled, light brown hair, and sparkling hazel eyes. He was smiling so widely Harry wondered if it hurt.

“Ella! Ana! Sally! C’mon out! The heir is here!”

He leaned forward in the frame, his eyes fixed on Harry.

“Hello there! I’m Godric; Godric Gryffindor. I see you’ve found us out!” He bounced back on the balls of his feet. “My friends call me Ricky.” He winked at Harry. “I see you belong to my house! That’s so exciting!” 

Three more figures came into view, all of them smiling. Harry recognised Salazar Slytherin from his statue in the Chamber of Secrets. His hair was a dark brown; almost black, and his eyes were a cool, icy blue. He snorted.

“Of course he would be a Gryffindor,” Slytherin sneered.

“Be nice, Sal.” A woman with blonde hair and soft brown eyes shot Slytherin a chiding look. She turned her attention back to Harry, her face breaking out into a happy smile. “I’m Helga – or Ella, if you prefer. I’m so happy to meet you. We’re all happy to meet you.” She glanced meaningfully at Slytherin, and he rolled his eyes.

“Being locked in here with no one but each other for company for thousands of years; of course we’re all glad to see you!”

Godric looked at him and beamed. Slytherin flushed, and turned away, muttering about cheerful idiots.

The last woman; tall with auburn hair and hazel eyes, leaned forward intently. “Would you tell us how you figured out how to break the enchantment? We knew you would someday; but not how or why. I’d love to hear about it!”

Godric chuckled. “That’s Rowana – we call her Ana. She’s our resident walking encyclopedia. She drinks in new information like a sponge.” He perched himself on the arm of the sofa. “What’s your name?”

Harry blinked at them in astonishment. “Er, I’m Harry. Harry Potter.”

“Well, Harry Harry Potter,” Godric winked again. “Would you like to come in?”

Harry sucked in a breath. Behind him he heard shocked gasps and murmurs of astonishment. He smiled. “Of course.” He hesitated. “Is it alright if they come, too?” He glanced behind him and took in the dumbfounded looks of the others.

“Er, would you guys like to come with me?”

“Try and stop me!” Draco nearly vibrated with eagerness.

“As Headmistress, I think it’s my duty to investigate fully.” McGonagall was attempting to look composed, but even she couldn’t hide her anticipation.

Madam Pomfrey looked delighted. “I would love to speak to Rowana. There are so many Healing techniques that have been lost over the years!”

Godric threw back his head and laughed. “Come on in – all of you!”

The portrait swung open.

* * *

 

_May 15th, 2018_

_Malfoy,_

_Al will be thrilled to attend Scorpius’ party. All of my children will be. Unfortunately, I have a Quidditch match to cover for the Prophet; Harry will have to bring them. I will speak with him and ensure his co-operation._

_I’m well aware of your history with Harry, Malfoy; as you well know. I’m also well aware of how badly you hurt him – to the point where he wants absolutely nothing to do with you. It will be extremely difficult for me to convince him to go as it is. If you do not want Scorpius to have to deal with having his best friend leave his party early, I would suggest you not antagonize him._

_From the sound of things, the party should be large enough that the two of you need not interact._

_Hopefully we can all be mature adults about this for the sake of our sons._

_Ginny Potter_

* * *

 

_October 31st, 1998_

Harry looked around in wonder. The common room was bright, decorated in silver, gold, bronze, and black – much like the common room of the eighth year students.

He turned to the others as the portrait swung shut behind them – and noticed that the portrait appeared to be double sided. The Founders were still there; still smiling.

 _I’ve missed having someone to talk to._ Hogwarts – because Harry couldn’t deny now that that must be who the voice was – sounded wistful. _I’ve missed my old friends. Will you tell them that?_

Harry cleared his throat. It was getting easier and easier to stay aware when Hogwarts spoke to him. “Hogwarts says to tell you she’s missed you.”

The Founders looked excited.

“You’ve spoken with her?” Rowana leaned forward eagerly.

“Yeah,” Harry ducked his head, feeling embarrassed. “There was a battle, and she was badly damaged; a lot of sections were destroyed. I helped with the rebuilding. Since my magic is so strong, I provided most of the magic to fix her. She said that I’d poured so much of my magic into her that she considers me another Founder, and after observing me for a while she decided she liked me and wanted to communicate.”

He cleared his throat. “That’s how I found your portrait. I thought I was crazy, so she was proving that she was who she said she was by showing me how to get in.”

The four of them murmured in astonishment. Rowana looked delighted. “How powerful are you?”

Draco spoke up. “One of the most powerful wizards in the world. Certainly the most powerful one in Britain.” Harry shot him a glare, but he shrugged. “Well, you _are_.”

Gryffindor clapped his hands, and Slytherin looked interested despite himself.

“So,” Harry said, desperately trying to avoid a discussion on how powerful he was. “Why place your portrait in the infirmary? Why hide it?”

Godric grinned at him. Rather, since he never seemed to stop grinning, his grin widened a bit.

“It’s not just in the infirmary, Harry. Every single landscape in the castle can become our portrait as long as no other occupants are in it. All you need to do is perform the spell to open them. Before you open the door to leave our common room, you simply choose which room you want the portrait to open in. As long as there’s a landscape in the room, it will work. The common room and our portrait won’t open for anyone but you, and as soon as you enter it, the outside reverts to a landscape again.”

Harry blinked in astonishment. “But why wouldn’t it open for anyone but me?”

“Because you’re our heir, Harry.” Helga’s voice was soft and gentle. “It was prophesied during our lifetimes that one day there would be an heir to the Founders who would unlock our secrets. We’ve been waiting for you for a very long time.”

Harry was struck dumb by this revelation, and slightly dismayed to realise he’d been the subject of yet _another_ prophesy.

Madam Pomfrey and Headmistress McGonagall stepped forward, and requested permission to speak with the Founders. Harry moved back, taking Draco’s elbow and pulling him along. He stopped when they were out of sight of the portrait.

“Thank you.” He smiled at his boyfriend. “I’m so sorry that you had to deal with all of this. But you were amazing. I think I’m even more in love with you than I was before.”

Draco flushed, and cupped Harry’s face in his hands. “I’m just glad you’re all right. Watching you go through that…” He swallowed convulsively. “It was one of the scariest things I’ve ever been through. I couldn’t stand to lose you. I think it really might kill me if I did.”

Harry placed his hands over Draco’s, then turned his head to the side to kiss the inside of Draco’s wrist. “I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault. These weird and crazy things just seem to happen to you.” Draco leaned forward and kissed him, and Harry’s breath caught. He pressed back, kissing Draco eagerly. Draco pulled away and he whined. The blond rested his forehead against Harry’s. “I love you. Weird things and all.”

Harry felt as though he could fly without the aid of broom. “I love you, too.”

* * *

_June 23rd, 2018_

“Scorp!”

Scorpius whirled around at the sound of Al’s voice. His face broke out into a delighted grin. “Al!”

The two boys hugged each other. Scorpius buried his face in Al’s shoulder. “I missed you,” he whispered.

Even though he was twelve years old now, and his behavior was undignified, he didn’t care. Al was here. He held on tightly, wishing that he never had to let go.

“Heya Scorp!”

“Rose!” He pulled away from Al reluctantly, hugging Rose in turn. She squeezed him hard, then pulled back and smiled at him.

“Happy birthday, Scorp.”

“Rosie, stop hugging him. That’s inappropriate!”

Scorpius stiffened when he heard that voice. Memories of being cornered and threatened in the dungeons by a tall man with freckles and bright red hair sent a shock of fear through him.

Rose and Al both moved in front of him and scowled up at Rose’s father, who was glaring at him in a way that made his knees weak – not in the same way that Al could do it, but in sheer terror. Rose’s mother smacked him on the back of the head.

“So help me, Ronald; if you don’t behave I’m going to floo your mother and let her deal with you! If you don’t want to spend another fortnight on the couch, you’ll be nice to Scorpius.”

Scorpius felt a wave of relief wash over him. Rose had told him that her mother was very good at keeping her father in line. The man shot one last glare at Scorpius before subsiding into a sulk.

Scorpius smiled at Rose’s mother. He was sure that she was responsible for Rose being normal, considering her father. She noticed and smiled back.

“Happy birthday, Scorpius.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Granger-Weasley.”

Hugo was smiling at him shyly. He’d only met the boy in passing, but it was only polite to greet him. “Hello, Hugo. Thank you all for coming to my party.”

Behind them he noticed Al’s dad trying to keep James and Lily in line. The two of them seemed determined to touch _everything_ in sight.

“Where’s your dad, Scorp?”

He turned around, grateful to have an excuse to bring his attention back to Al. “Grandfather dragged him off somewhere. Probably trying to introduce him to some pure-blood woman that he wants Father to marry. Father refuses, but that doesn’t stop Grandfather from trying.”

He didn’t notice how Al’s father stiffened at those words. No one did. No one saw the look of pain that flashed across his face before he schooled his features and turned his attention back to corralling his unruly children.

* * *

_October 31st, 1998_

“I thought they’d never leave.”

Draco grinned at Harry’s expression of exasperation. “Can you blame them?”

He huffed. “Yes.” Draco chuckled. “Tell me you wouldn’t be fascinated. Tell me you _aren’t_.”

Harry flushed. “Well, yeah. But that doesn’t mean that I wasn’t looking forward to being alone with you again.”

Draco arched a brow at him. “And here you told the Headmistress that you simply wanted a little more time to converse with the Founders.” His tone was mocking, but his face betrayed his eagerness.

Harry laughed and kissed him. Draco returned the kiss with interest, until the sound of a throat clearing behind them broke into their reverie. Draco paled as he realised that the Founders of Hogwarts had seen him kissing a boy. Considering how narrow-minded pure-bloods were nowadays, he could only imagine how bad it had been back in their day.

Yet when he turned around, none of them looked disgusted. Rather, they seemed amused.

“Gryffindor and Slytherin,” said Rowana in a teasing tone. “Looks like history _does_ repeat itself! Hopefully you handle things better than these two idiots did!”

Godric’s smile dimmed when she said that and Slytherin got up and walked stiffly out of the frame. She flinched. “I’m sorry. Ricky… I didn’t mean…”

He forced a smile. “I know.” He turned away. “I’m going to go find him.”

Helga stopped him with a hand on his arm. “You know that he won’t listen to you right now. I’ll go.”

Godric nodded, and she left.

“You and Slytherin?” Harry felt slightly disbelieving.

Godric gave him a small, sad smile. “I’ll tell you about it sometime. After I talk to Sal. For now, why don’t you two check out the upstairs?” He gave them a knowing wink that made them both blush furiously and sent them off in a hurry.

Each of the staircases had a house emblem above it. Sensing that Draco would doubtless be alive with curiosity to see where the Founder of his House had once lived, Harry moved towards the stairs moving down to the dungeons with a striking serpent on the banner overhead. “Let’s go check out Slytherin’s chambers, shall we?”

The look of delight on Draco’s face convinced him he’d made the right decision.

Harry found he cared as little for Slytherin’s personal rooms as he had for the Slytherin common room, back when he was twelve. He said as much to Draco, who snickered.

“You’re just uncultured, Potter,” he said with a disdainful sniff.

Harry smiled slyly. “You know, there’s a really lovely shower in the en suite bathroom, Draco. I think I just might be cultured enough to appreciate that, if you would help me.”

Draco’s brows rose before he smirked. “Why, Harry,” he purred, drawing Harry into the circle of his arms. “I’d _love_ to show you just how underappreciated showers really are.”

Harry chuckled, pulling away. “Why don’t you how me then, Malfoy?” he challenged. He sauntered into the bathroom. It was lovely and huge, with a shower that was very nearly a work of art.

The shower wall was a wide stone semicircle, with several silver snakeheads with open mouths all pointed towards the center. It looked very medieval, despite having plumbing. It occurred to Harry then that as much as the wizarding world seemed rather stuck in the past compared to modern muggle technology, in medieval times magic had allowed them many comforts that were unimaginable for muggles of their day. The effect of the whole thing was rather intimidating and very luxurious.

Harry paused in the doorway as he surveyed the room. It was all stone, silver, and green; dimly lit, with small windows that let in the greenish glow of the lake that surrounded them. It was very Slytherin, and while Harry felt it was rather gloomy overall, he knew Draco would feel at home.

The sensation of a pair of arms sliding around his waist brought him back to the present. He leaned back against his lover, and shivered as Draco’s lips brushed the nape of his neck. Draco nipped him, then murmured, “If I’m to show you just how enticing a shower could be, I’ll need you to actually enter the room, Harry.”

Harry’s lips curved into a smile. “Well then, Malfoy,” he drawled. “Show me what you can do.” He moved out of Draco’s grasp, turning his head to toss a smirk over his shoulder. The hunger in Draco’s eyes lit a fire in his belly.

He began stripping off his hospital robes as he moved towards the shower. Behind him, he heard the rustling of clothing that signified Draco was following his lead. He grinned wickedly.

As he toed off his pants, he stepped into the shower ring and glanced around for a tap. He frowned when he didn’t see one.

_How do I turn this thing on?_

_Simply say, “Aguamenti”, and the water will run on command._

Harry started. _Uhm… thanks, Hogwarts._ It felt rather awkward speaking to the castle as a sentient being, though he supposed he would get used to it in time. What felt even more awkward was the notion of Hogwarts as a voyeur to his and Draco’s activities. _No offense… but do you think you can give us some privacy?_

 _Certainly. I wouldn’t dream of intruding on you and your lover. Some things really aren’t meant to be shared._ He could sense the castle’s amusement as she answered him. He felt slightly relieved to know that there would be no telepathic voice in his head during sex.

“ _Aguamenti_!” he said loudly. Water began to stream from each of the serpents’ open mouths; hot and steaming. He stepped into the center and tossed his head back, soaking in the spray with his eyes closed.

Draco’s arms slid around him again, and arousal flared in his belly as he felt his lover’s firm body pressed against his back. Draco’s cock was making known its interest in the proceedings, nudging insistently against his backside. He pressed back into it, and heard Draco groan in his ear. His blond lover’s hands fell to his hips, gripping him tightly.

“ _Harry_.”

Harry smirked and ground backwards, placing his own hands back over Draco’s hips, pulling him forwards even as Draco canted his hips unconsciously. The Slytherin gasped.

“Draco,” he murmured. “Fuck me. Please?”

Draco growled low in his ear, and seized his hair with his left hand, pulling his head back and savaging his mouth. Draco’s right arm wrapped tightly around his waist, holding him flush against himself as he ground his hard length into Harry’s rear. Harry gasped and squirmed eagerly, bringing up his own hands to hold Draco in place as he returned the kiss eagerly.

Draco released him and he let out a whine. He turned to face Draco, who had backed out of the shower and picked up his wand. He cast a spell that filled his hand with the lubricating gel. Smirking, he turned back towards Harry. 

“Turn around and lean forward. Put your hands on the wall, stick out your arse, and spread your legs,” he instructed.

Harry grinned, and did as Draco said. He felt a little silly and very exposed; bracing himself against the cool stone wall with his arse sticking out, water beating down on his back. 

He felt Draco kneel between his legs, and his cock twitched in anticipation. Draco chuckled, before placing a soft kiss on the inside of his thigh. Harry bit his lip.

He felt Draco’s slick fingertip tracing his pucker, and drew in a sharp breath at the sensation and the memories it invoked. He canted his hips backwards, and Draco let out a soft, breathy laugh before breaching him.

The digit slid in and out easily; their activities earlier that evening having loosened Harry up. Harry moaned lightly at the sensation; eager for more; for Draco to fill him with himself.

Draco added a second finger quickly, and Harry thrust backwards once again, impaling himself. He gasped as Draco’s scissoring fingers nudged his prostate. “More, Draco,” he urged his lover. “Please; Merlin, _more_!”

Draco bit the inside of his thigh. “So impatient,” he murmured. But he added a third lubricant soaked finger. He went more slowly, and Harry was more patient with this addition. He may have been loosened up already, but he was still very tight and winced slightly as he realised he probably should have let Draco take as long as he wanted to prepare him. He decided to let Draco set the pace from then on.

It didn’t hurt much, though, and he soon forgot that resolution as he pushed back on Draco’s fingers, pleaded him for more. “Draco, get on with it!” he demanded.

Draco snorted. “Pushy little bottom, aren’t you?”

“Shut up!” Harry huffed.

Draco laughed, and withdrew his fingers. Harry moaned at the sudden empty feeling. “Draco, please,” he begged. “Fuck me, _please_!”

Draco kissed the small of his back, before straightening and slicking his cock. “Listen to you, begging for my cock,” he teased. “I’m gonna fill you so far you’ll be feeling me inside you for a week!”

“Yes; now get on with it!” Harry smacked the wall with the palm of his hand, impatient. Draco chuckled again, before sliding into him.

Harry hissed at the burn as he pushed back. Draco pressed forward steadily, but went slow enough that it didn’t hurt too much. He moaned as he made it the last few inches and paused when he was seated balls-deep.

“ _Fuck_ , Harry,” he gasped. “So tight!”

Harry groaned and pressed back. “Move, Draco!”

Draco grabbed his hips before sliding back and slamming forward again. Harry cried out, finding that the angle allowed Draco to hit his prostate with greater accuracy.

“Yes!” he cried. “Oh, Merlin, Draco; _yes_!”

Draco began pounding into him in earnest, and Harry found himself cursing over and over, repeatedly calling on Merlin and crying out Draco’s name as his pleasure-spot was struck relentlessly.

His thighs trembled but he held himself up the best he could, not wanting it to end for anything. Draco reached around to grasp his cock and began pulling it in time with his thrusts.

Harry sobbed, finding himself moving in sync with Draco’s thrusting and tugging at his cock. The pleasure building in his gut reduced his ability to communicate to chants of, “Draco, Draco, Draco, _Draco_!” that seemed to repeat on an endless loop.

“Come for me, Harry,” breathed Draco into his ear, and his orgasm tore through him, nearly blinding him in its intensity. He came screaming Draco’s name.

The combination of Harry’s channel clenching around him and hearing his own name shrieked in ecstasy by his lover wrung Draco’s own orgasm from him. He threw his head back and let out a wordless cry as he spilled inside the brunet.

He sagged forwards, and Harry’s knees gave way, causing them both to sink to the floor. He wrapped his arms around Harry, kissing his shoulders and the nape of his neck over and over.

“Harry,” he murmured. “Love you.”

“Love you, too,” Harry mumbled back. He sounded dazed, and Draco almost felt smug; only he was feeling rather dazed himself. The water cascaded over them, washing away their come and sweat and Draco couldn’t stop laving Harry’s shoulders with open-mouthed kisses. He couldn’t stop smiling, either.

Harry tipped his head back, into the spray, leaning it on Draco’s shoulder. He turned to the side and kissed the blond’s cheek. “I really do love you, you know,” he whispered.

Draco turned his head and met his lover in a deep kiss. He pulled back and stared into those incredible green eyes. “I know,” he answered. “And I hope you know that I really love you, too.”

Harry turned around, sliding his arms around Draco’s neck. “I wish I could wake up in your arms tomorrow,” he whispered.

Draco’s heart clenched at the thought of waking up without Harry beside him for the first time since term started. “Madam Pomfrey wants to keep you overnight, to make sure you’re fine. And you’ll need the time to figure out what you want to tell your friends, anyway. Are you sure you don’t want anyone to know?”

Harry shook his head. “I’ve been enough of a freak for one lifetime already, thanks,” he said. “I’m just glad that Headmistress McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey agreed to let me keep this a secret.”

Draco smirked. “Well, you did threaten not to let them talk to the Founders ever again if they didn’t,” he pointed out. “That, combined with how you requested to stay behind on the pretense of talking more with the Founders and having me stay on the pretense of having someone who could get you out if you were to collapse again, make me reevaluate just how well you might have done in Slytherin.”

Harry chuckled. “I told you; the Hat said I’d do well in Slytherin.”

Draco kissed him again. “I just wasn’t sure before if that might have been something you dreamed up,” he teased.

“Prat.” Harry smiled fondly.

“Your prat,” Draco whispered against his lips.

“Mmm,” Harry agreed, deepening their kiss.

After a few minutes of languid kisses, Draco rested his forehead against Harry’s. “We need to get back before Madam Pomfrey starts freaking out. And I should probably go let your friends know that you’re alright.”

Harry sighed. “You’re right.”

Draco smirked. “I always am.”

They rose and toweled off before redressing. Using a charm to dry their hair, they made their way back up the stairs hand in hand.

Harry paused on the landing. “Draco, isn’t there a landscape in our room?”

Draco blinked. “Yeah; on the wall over my bed.”

Harry’s lips curved up in a smile. “You know, if I let you carry around my invisibility cloak, you can sneak back in our room to meet me during the day, while I use one of the many landscapes around the castle to take a short-cut through here into our room. And rather than staying there and having to lock and silence the room, we can just come back in here – whether we just want to talk to each other, to the Founders, or use one of the four bedchambers in here to… spend some quality time together.” He leered suggestively and Draco burst out laughing.

“You really _are_ a Slytherin at heart, Harry Potter.”


End file.
